The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Son of Neptune
by Yugioash
Summary: Over half a year ago, Hazel was brought her back to life from the underworld thanks to her brother. A month ago Frank's mother died & he was send to the wolf house to train as a Roman and live up to his legacy. Now it's Percy's turn to make his journey from the to Camp Jupiter so that the three of them can unite in order to stop Gaea & the banes of Pluto and Neptune & save the camp
1. Percy's POV Part I

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N:** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story. Because I KNOW I warn all of you about the first chapter before it started.

Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Son of Neptune**

 **Percy's POV Part I**

These snake haired ladies are starting to annoy me.

They should have died three days ago when I dropped a crate of bowling balls on them at Napa Bargain Mart. They should have died two days ago when I ran them over with a police car in Martinez. They _definitely_ should have died this morning when I cut off their heads in Tilden Park.

No matter how many times I kill them and watched them crumble to powder, they just kept reforming like large evil dust bunnies. I couldn't even seem to outrun them.

I reached the top of the hill and caught my breath. How long since I last killed them? Maybe two hours. They never seemed to stay dead longer than that.

Because of those snake-haired ladies—which I somehow knew them as the two of the Gorgon sisters—I hardly could sleep the past few days. I'd eaten whatever I could scrounge—vending machine gummi bears, stale bagels, even Jack in Crack burrito, which was a new personal low. My clothes were torn, burn, and splattered with monster slime.

The only reason I survived this long was because the Gorgon sisters couldn't seem to kill me either. Their claws didn't cut my skin. Their teeth broke whenever they tried to bite me. But I couldn't keep going much longer. Soon I'll collapse from exhaustion, and then—as hard as I was to kill, I was pretty sure the gorgons would find a way.

Where to run?

I scanned my surroundings. Under different circumstances, I might've enjoyed the view. To my left, the golden hills rolled inland, dotted with lakes, woods, and a few herds of cows. To my right, the flatlands of Berkeley and Oakland marched west—a vast checkerboard of neighborhoods, with several million people who probably did not want their morning interrupted by two monsters and a filthy demigod.

Farther west, San Francisco Bay glittered under a silvery haze. Past that, a wall of fog had swallowed most of San Francisco, leaving just the tops of skyscrapers and the towers of the Golden Gate Bridge.

I had a vague sadness weighed down on my chest. I don't know how I would know this, but something told me I'd been to San Francisco before. The city had some connection to Annabeth—the only person I could remember, and one of two things I remember from my past. Another seemed more like a prophecy of some kind: _You'll be one of the greatest heroes of your generation…. Possibly of all time._ Both memories were dim, but the one of Annabeth was the most frustrating.

The wolf had promised I would see Annabeth again and regain my memory— _if_ I succeed in my journey.

Should I try to cross the bay?

It was tempting. I could feel the power of the ocean just over the horizon. Water always revived me and salt water was the best. I first discovered I had powers over water when I instinctively—for reasons I yet understood—uncapped the thermos that was clipped to my belt and fired a jet of water from it. As the days went by, I discovered more of my powers over the sea, especially two days ago when I had to strangle a sea monster in Carquinez Straight. That was when I realize that salt water could revive me.

If I could reach the bay, I might be able to make a last stand. Maybe I could even drown the gorgons. But the shore was at least two miles away. I have to cross an entire city.

There was another reason I hesitated, though. The she-wolf Lupa had taught me to sharpen my senses—to trust the instincts that had been guiding me south. My homing radar was tingling like crazy now. The end of my journey was close—almost right under my feet. But how could that be? There was nothing on the hilltop.

The wind changed and I caught the sour scent of reptile. A hundred yards down the slope, something rustled through the woods—snapping branches, crunching leaves, hissing.

Gorgons.

For the millionth time, I wished their nose weren't so good. They had always said they could _smell_ me because I was a demigod—half-blood son of some Roman god. I tried everything I could think of to mask my demigod stink. I knew there was a way, but I can't remember what. But everything I tried failed.

The oddest part, I can't help but shake this feeling that I made a similar journey like this years ago, and that this wasn't the first time I been chased by monsters who wants me dead.

I scrambled to the west side of the summit. It was too steep for me to descend. The slope plummeted eighty feet, straight to the roof of an apartment complex built into the hillside. Fifty feet below that, a highway emerged from the hill's base and wound its way toward Berkeley.

Great. No other way off the hill. I managed to get myself cornered.

I stared at the stream of cars flowing west toward San Francisco and wished I was in one of them. That's when it dawn to me that the highway must cut through the hill. There must be a tunnel… right under my feet.

My internal radar was going nuts. I _was_ in the right place, just too high up. I need a way down to the highway—fast—so I can check out that tunnel.

I slung off my backpack that I managed to grab along with a lot of supplies at the Napa Bargain Mart: a portable GPS, duct tape, lighter, superglue, water bottle, camping roll, a Comfy Panda Pillow Pet (yes, the same ones seen on TV), and a Swiss Army Knife—pretty much every tool a modern demigod could want. But I had nothing that would serve as a parachute or sled.

That just leaves me with two options: jump eighty feet to my death, or stand and fight. Both options sounded pretty bad.

I cursed and pulled my pen from my pocket.

Like my thermos, at first glance the pen didn't look like much, just a regular cheap ballpoint, but when I uncapped it, it grew into a glowing bronze sword. The blade balanced perfectly. The leather grip fit in my hand like it had been custom designed for me. Etched along the guard was an Ancient Greek word I somehow understood: _Anaklusmos_ —Riptide.

For some reason I looked at my left wrist, expecting to find something on it—a wristwatch I think—but it wasn't there.

It been like this since I woke up with my sword during my first night at the Wolf House—two months ago? More? I'd lost track. I'd found myself in the courtyard of a burned-out mansion in the middle of the woods, wearing shorts, an Orange T-shirt, and a leather necklace with nine strange and different color beads. Riptide had been in my hand and my thermos was strapped to my belt, but I had no idea how I gotten there, and only the vaguest idea who I was: Perseus Jackson—although I believe I go by Percy since it felt right. I was barefoot, freezing, and confused with only the memory Annabeth and that line about me being one of the seven greatest demigods alive. I didn't know if the two were connected or not. And then the wolves came…

Right next to me, a familiar voice jolted me back to the present: "There you are!"

I stumbled away from the gorgons, almost falling off the edge of the hill.

The one that talked was the smiley one—Stheno.

The first time I'd seen her was when she was posing as a Bargain Mart greeter with a big green button that read: _Welcome! My name is Stheno_. But as near as I could figure I was dyslexic and the words got twisted around when I read it, so at first I thought it said BEANO until I realized what she really was.

Stheno was still wearing her green Bargain Mart employee vest over flower print dress. If you looked just at her body, you might think she was somebody's dumpy old grandmother—until you notice she had rooster feet, a bronze boar's tusk sticking out of the corners of her mouth, the fact her eyes glowed red, and her hair was a writhing nest of bright green snakes.

For some reason she was still holding her big silver platter of free samples: Crispy Cheese 'n' Wieners. Her platter was dented from all the times I had killed her, but those little samples looked perfectly fine. Stheno just kept toting them across California so she could offer me a snack before she would try and kill me. I didn't know why she kept doing that, the Crispy Cheese 'n' Wieners seemed as indestructible as my skin. In her strange way though, Stheno was actually nicer than her sister.

"Try one?" Stheno offered.

I fended her off with my sword. "Where's your sister?"

"Oh, put that sword away," Stheno chided. "You know by now that Celestial bronze can't kill us for long. Have a Cheese 'n' Wiener! They're on sale this week, and I'd hate to kill you on an empty stomach."

"Stheno!" The second gorgon appeared on my right so fast, I didn't have time to react. Fortunately, she was too busy glaring at her sister to pay me much attention. "I told you to sneak up on him and kill him!"

Stheno's smile wavered. "But Euryale…" She said, "Can't I give him a sample first?"

"No, you imbecile!" Euryale turned toward me and bared her fangs.

Except for her hair, which was a nest of coral snakes instead of green vipers, she looked exactly like her sister.

Her Bargain Mart vest, her flowery dress, even her tusks, were decorated with 50% off stickers. Her name badge read: _Hello! My name is DIE, DEMIGOD SCUM!_

"You've led us on quite a chase, Percy Jackson," Euryale said. "But now you're trapped, and we'll have our revenge."

"The Cheese 'n' Wieners are only $2.99," Stheno added helpfully. "Grocery department, aisle three."

Euryale snarled. "Stheno, the Bargain Mart was a _front_! You're going native! Now, put that ridiculous tray down and help me kill this demigod. Or have you forgotten that he's the one who vaporize Medusa?"

Now you can see why I said Stheno is actually nicer than Euryale in her own way.

I stepped back. Six more inches, and I'd be tumbling through thin air. Maybe I can uncap my thermos and fired a water blast that would often my landing. Will it work? I don't know and I'm not sure if it's worth to try.

"Look, ladies, we've been over this. I don't even _remember_ killing Medusa. I don't remember anything! Can't we just call a truce and talk about your weekly specials?"

She gave her sister a pouty look, which was hard to do with giant bronze tusks. "Can we?"

"No!" Euryale's red eyes bored into me. "I don't care what you remember, son of the sea god. I can smell Medusa's blood on you. It's faint, yes, several years old, but _you_ were the last one to defeat her. She _still_ has not return from Tartarus. It's your fault!"

I rubbed my forehead, not because of the frustration of this, but because the pain subsiding in the back of my eye. It's as if I should know this stuff, but I can't access them. Especially the who _I'm-the-son-of-the-sea-god_ thing. Most would find it crazy, just as they would if they saw my sword as it is, or that I can fire jets of water from my thermos, or the Mist can disguise monsters to look human. I been able to accept all of that easy, even when Lupa first told me all this. It was as if I knew this most of my life, and yet I can't remember it.

"Now Percy Jackson, I know you bear the mark of Achilles, and that makes you tougher to kill. But if there's away to kill you, we will find it," Euryale said.

Again I got a sharp stabbing pain in the eye. Achilles… he sounded familiar, like I should know his story. One thing that did come to my mind was something about a weak spot. I think I have one… one that I normally guarded well in battle. But I can't remember where.

Right now I need to get off this mountain and somehow survive.

I looked at Stheno's large silver platter of free samples. I knew they were poisoned with Stheno's blood from her left side. She told me that yesterday much to Euryale's annoyance. I even know that a gorgon's blood on their right side can cure anything, which might include amnesia, but the Gorgons won't give me a chance to try it out.

Still, that platter gives me an idea.

"You know what, I'll reconsider the platter," I said.

"Really?" Stheno asked.

"Idiot! Can't you tell he's trying to trick you!" Euryale yelled. "Let's stick to finding his weak point and slay him. If we do that our patron will reward us and we'll be more famous than Medusa."

Euryale wasn't going to make this easy. Still if I can just distract them—maybe continue talking to them.

"Before you slash me to bits," I said. "who's this patron you mention?"

Euryale sneered. "The goddess Gaea, of course! The one who brought us back from oblivion! You won't live long enough to meet her, but your friends below will soon face her wrath. Even now, her armies are marching south. At the Feast of Fortuna, she'll awaken, and the demigods will be cut down like—like—"

"Like our low prices at Bargain Mart!" Stheno suggested.

Euryale stormed toward her sister. I took the opening. I grabbed Stheno's platter, scattering poisoned Cheese 'n' Wieners, and slashed Riptide across Euryale's waist, cutting her in half.

Then I raised the platter to make Stheno look at her own greasy reflection. As seemingly nice as she is, I know she wasn't very bright.

"Medusa!" she screamed.

I slammed the metal tray on the top of Stheno's head and she passed out cold as her sister Euryale gurgled in a half-made face from the crumbled dust that was her, calling Stheno a fool and idiot.

I put the platter behind my butt, and send a prayer to whatever Roman god that might help me as I jumped off the side of the hill.


	2. Percy's POV Part II

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N:** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story. Because I KNOW I warn all of you about the first chapter before it started.

Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **Percy's POV Part II**

While I was plummeting down the hill a thought occurred to me. No, it's not I was going to die—although I probably am—it was that I was experiencing déjà vu. It felt like this wasn't the first time I did something like this only with actual snow. Whatever the case, it didn't seem to be helping me now.

I narrowly missed a tree, glanced off a boulder, and spun a three-sixty as I shot toward the highway. The stupid snack tray did not have the power of steering. I heard the gorgon sisters screaming and caught glimpse of Euryale's coral-snake hair at the top of the hill, but I didn't have time to worry about the Gorgons right now. The roof of the apartment building loomed below me like the prow of a battleship.

I managed to swerve sideways to avoid breaking my legs on impact. The snack platter skittered across the roof and sailed through the air. Sadly I didn't go with it as I went the other direction—right off the roof toward the highway.

Yep. I'm good as dead. I doubt the Mark of Achilles would protect me from slamming into a car.

Just before I thought I would hit the car, a gust of wind blew me to one side—just enough to miss the highway and crash into a clump of bushes. It wasn't a soft landing, but it was better than asphalt.

I groaned as I wanted to lie there passed out. But I knew the Gorgon's was on my trail, and I need to start moving.

I struggle to my feet. No bones seemed broken and I don't seem to have any scratches—probably due to having skin like iron. I still had my backpack. My thermos was still in one piece, which always made me feel relief. Somewhere on the sled ride, I lost my sword. But I knew it would eventually reappear in my pocket in pen form. It didn't matter where I lost it, when I lost it, or how far I was from it, Riptide always returned to my pocket—sometimes longer than others depending on how far I am from it.

I glanced up the hill. The gorgons were hard to miss, with their colorful snake hair and their bright green Bargain Mart vest. They were picking their way down the slope, going slower than me but with a lot more control. Judging from their pace, I figured I had five minutes before they reached me.

Next to me, a tall chain-link fence separated the highway from a neighborhood of winding streets, cozy houses, and tall eucalyptus trees. The fence was probably there to keep people from getting onto the highway.

The chain-links was full of big holes. I could easily slip through into the neighborhood. Maybe I could find a car and drive west to the ocean. I didn't like stealing cars, but over the past few weeks, in life-and-death situations, I 'borrowed' several, including a police cruiser. I'd meant to return them, but they never seem to last long.

I glanced east. Just as I figured, a hundred yards uphill the highway cut through the base of the cliff. Two tunnel entrances, one for each direction of traffic. It looked as if the two entrances were staring down at me like eye sockets of a giant skull. In the middle, where the nose would have been, a cement wall jutted from the hillside, with a metal door like the entrance to a bunker.

The Mortals probably thought it was a Maintenance tunnel due to the Mist, but I knew it was more than that.

Two kinds in armor flanked the entrance. They wore a bizarre mix of plume Roman helmets, breastplates, scabbards, blue jeans, purple T-shirts, and white athletic shoes. The guard on the right looked like a girl, though it was hard to tell for sure with all the armor. The one on the left was a stocky guy with a bow and quiver on his back. Both kid held long wooden staffs with iron spear tips, like old fashioned harpoons.

My internal radar was pinging like crazy. After so many horrible days, I'd finally reached my goal. My instincts told me that if I could make it inside that door, I might find safety for the first time since the wolves had sent me south.

And yet I felt dread about it.

Farther up the hill, the gorgons were scrambling over the roof of the apartment complex. Three minutes away—maybe less.

Part of me wanted to run to the door in the hill. I'd have to cross to the median of the highway, but then it would be a short sprint. I could make it before the gorgons reached me.

But another part of me wanted to head west to the ocean. That's where I'd be safest. That's where my power would be greatest. Those Roman guards at the door made me feel uneasy. Something inside me said: _This isn't my territory. This is dangerous._

"You're right, of course," said a voice next to me.

I jumped. Sitting in the bushes was an old lady that looked more repulsive than the gorgons. She looked like a hippie who'd been kicked to the side of the road maybe forty years ago, where she'd been collecting trash and rags ever since. She wore a dress made of tie-dyed cloth, ripped up quilts, and plastic. Her hair was frizzy moped and gray-brown, tied back with a peace-sign headband. Warts and moles covered her face. When she smiled, she showed exactly three teeth—which for some reason wasn't as disturbing as I would of thought.

"It isn't a maintenance tunnel," she confided. "It's the entrance to camp."

A jolt went up my spine. _Camp_. Yes, that's where I was from. A camp. Maybe this was my home. Maybe Annabeth was close by.

And yet something felt wrong. As if the area I'm at didn't seem right.

The gorgons were still on the roof of the apartment building. I heard Stheno shrieked in delight and saw that she was pointing in my direction.

The old hippie lady raised her eyebrows. "Not much time, child. You need to make your choice."

"Who are you?" I asked, though I wasn't sure I wanted to know. The last thing I needed was another harmless mortal who turned out to be a monster.

"Oh, you can all me June." The old lady's eyes sparkled as if she'd made an excellent joke. "It _is_ June, isn't it? They named the month after me!"

I frowned as it was odd. "Okay… look, I should go. Two gorgons are coming. I don't want them to hurt you."

June clasped her hands over her heard. "How sweet! But that's part of your choice! A choice that could affect your future!"

"My choice… my future…" For some reason those two words felt familiar, like another déjà vu moment.

I glanced nervously toward the hill. Either the gorgons took off their green vest, or their vest transform into bat wings that sprouted from their backs and glinted like brass.

They were too small to get a gorgon into the air, but when the two sisters leaped off the apartment building they soared toward me.

 _Great. Just great._

"Yes, a choice that affects your future," June said, as if she were in no hurry. "You could leave me here at the mercy of the gorgons and go to the ocean. You'd make it there safely, I guarantee. The gorgons will be quite happy to attack me and let you go. In the sea, no monster would bother you. You could begin a new life, live to a ripe old age, and escape a great deal of pain and misery that you will face. Or, you can carry me to camp—across the highway, through the tunnel, and to the river where you will face another decision of how to cross it that would affect how you'll become one of the seven greatest demigods of all time."

I didn't know what she meant by that, but it didn't sound easy and both options I didn't like. I know the camp was where I'm supposed to go, but every part of me is telling me it's not a good idea. But if I go to the ocean and the Gorgons does attack June, it could cost her life and part of me didn't want anyone to do that. Plus there is that issue about what June said about that line I remember. I know—somehow—that was part of my destiny, but is it worth it?

I swallowed. The gorgons shrieked with laughter as they soar in for the kill.

"If I go to camp," I said. "will I get my memory back?"

"Eventually… just as eventually the item you miss but don't remember will be returned," June said. "But be warned, you will sacrifice much. You will deal with misery and loss beyond anything you known, and if you chose keep your Mark of Achilles, it will make things harder. But you might have a chance to save your old friends, and family, to reclaim your old life."

The gorgons were circling right overhead. They were probably studying the old woman, trying to figure out who the new player was before they struck.

I looked at my left wrist where I could have sworn I had a wristwatch on at one time. June was right, I did miss it. I don't know why, but it felt like it was a piece of my past that was taken away from me along with my memories. Most importantly, I think it was connected to Annabeth.

If going to camp will mean finding Annabeth, maybe it's worth it? But still…

"What about those guards at the door?" I asked.

June smiled. "Oh, they'll let you in, dear. You can trust those who have a similar fate as you. So, what do you say? Will you help a defenseless old woman?"

I doubt June was defenseless. The worst case scenario, this could be a trap. The best case scenario it was some kind of test I might be able to pass.

"I'll carry you." I scooped up the old woman.

She was lighter than I expected. I tried to ignore her sour breath and her calloused hands clinging to my neck. I made it across the first lane of traffic, dodging cars and ignoring drivers yelling.

A shadow flew over me. Stheno called down gleefully, "Clever boy! Found a goddess to carry, did you?"

A goddess?"

June cackled with delight, muttering, "Whoops!" as a car almost killed us.

"Get them!" I heard Euryale screamed from my left. "Two prizes are better than one!"

I bolted across the remaining lanes and made it to the median alive. I saw the gorgons swooping down over the cars. I didn't know what the Mortals saw through the Mist, but they swerved around the Gorgons.

I ran for the door in the hillside. June got heavier with every step I take. My heart pounded. My ribs ached.

One of the guards yelled. The guy with the bow nocked an arrow and shot it. The arrow flew over my head and I guess hit one of the gorgons because I heard one of them wailed in pain. The second guard readied her spear, gesturing frantically at me to hurry.

I was fifty feet from the door. Thirty feet.

"Gotcha!" shrieked Euryale. However, another arrow soar past my head and must of hit her, sending her back.

I finally reached the door. "Thanks," I told the guards. "Good shot."

"That should've killed her!" the archer protested.

"Now you know how I feel," I muttered.

"Frank," the girl said. "Get them inside, quick! Those are gorgons."

"Gorgons?" the archer's voice squeaked. It was hard to tell much about him under the helmet, but he looked stout like a wrestler, maybe fourteen or fifteen. "Will the doors old them?"

In my arms, June cackled. "No, no it won't. Onward, Percy Jackson! Through the tunnel to the river!"

Is it me or am I the only one who feels like I'm living an ancient story.

"Percy Jackson?" The female guard was darker skinned, with curly hair sticking out of the sides of her helmet. She looked younger than Frank—maybe thirteen. Her sword scabbard came down almost to her ankle. Still, she sounded like she was the one in charge.

"I'm a demigod," I said.

"I can see that, but who's—?" She glanced at June. "Never mind. Just get inside. I'll hold them off."

"Hazel," the boy said. "Don't be crazy."

"Go!"

Frank cursed in another language that sounded like Latin and opened the door. "Come on!"

I followed, staggering under the weight of the old lady, who was definitely getting heavier. I can't help but shake this feeling I was reliving an ancient Greek story, but I can't remember which one or how I knew it was Greek. I didn't know how that girl Hazel would hold off the gorgons by herself, but I was too tired to argue.

The tunnel cut through solid rock, about the width and height of a school hallway. At first it looked like a typical maintenance tunnel, with electric cables, warning signs, and fuse boxes on the walls, lightbulbs in wire cages along the ceiling. As we ran deeper into the hillside, the cement floor changed to tiled mosaic. The lights changed to reed torches, which burned but didn't smoke. A few hundred yards ahead, I saw a square of daylight.

The old lady was heavier now, and my arms shook from the strain. June mumbled a song in Latin that sounded like a lullaby. That didn't help me one bit.

Behind us, the gorgons' echoed in the tunnel. I could hear Hazel shouting. I was tempted to dump June and run back to help her, but then the entire tunnel shook with rumble of falling stone. There was a squawking sound, just like the gorgons made when I dropped a crate of bowling balls on them in Napa. I glanced back. The west end of the tunnel was now filled with dust.

"Shouldn't we check on Hazel?" I asked.

"She'll be okay—I hope," Frank said. "She's good underground. Just keep moving! We're almost there."

"Almost where?"

June chuckled. "All roads lead to Rome, child. You should know that."

That didn't sound right to me. My memory maybe gone, but I'm pretty sure we're in the United States in North America while Rome was in Italy in Europe.

We kept running. The glow of the end of the tunnel grew brighter, and finally we burst into sunlight.

I froze. Spread out at my feet was a bowl-shaped valley several miles wide. The basin floor was rumpled with smaller hills, golden plains, and stretched of forest. A small clear river cut a winding course from a lake in the center and around the perimeter, like a capital G.

The geography could've been anywhere in Northern California—live oaks and eucalyptus trees, gold hills and blue skies. That big inland mountain—what was it called, Mount Diablo? Rose in the distance, right where it should be.

But I felt like I just stepped into a secret world. In the center of the valley, nestled by the lake, was a small city of white marble buildings with red tiled roofs. Some had domes and columned porticoes, like national monuments. Others looked like palaces, with golden doors and large gardens. I could see an open plaza with freestanding columns, fountains, and statues. A five-story-tall Roman coliseum gleamed in the sun, next to a long oval arena like a racetrack.

Across the lake to the south, another hill was dotted with even more impressive buildings—temples, I would guess. Several stone bridges crossed the river as it wound through the valley, and in the north, a long line of brickwork arches stretched from the hills into the town. I realized it was an aqueduct like in the pictures of ancient Rome—only these were in perfect condition.

The strangest part of the valley was right bellow me. About two hundred yards away, just across the river, was some sort of military encampment. It was about a quarter mile square, with earthen ramparts on all four sides, the tops lined with sharpen spikes. Outside the walls ran a dirt moat, also studded with spikes. Wooden watchtowers rose at each corner, manned by sentries with oversized mounted crossbows. Purple banners hung from the towers. A wide gateway opened on the far side of camp, leading toward the city. A narrow gate stood closed on the riverbank side. Inside, the fortress bustled with activity: dozens of kids going to and from barracks, carrying weapons, polishing armor. I could hear the clanks of hammers at a forge and smelled meat cooking over a fire.

Something about this place felt very familiar, yet not quite right.

"Camp Jupiter," Frank said. "We'll be safe once—"

Footsteps echoed in the tunnel behind us. Hazel burst into the light. She was covered with stone dust and breathing hard. She lost her helmet, so her curly brown hair fell around her shoulders. Her armor had long slash marks in front from the claws of the gorgons. Apparently one of the monsters tagged her with a 50% off sticker.

"I slowed them down," she said. "But they'll be here any second."

Frank cursed. "We have to get across the river."

June squeezed my neck tighter. "Oh, yes, please. I can't get my dress wet."

She wanted me to cross the river but not get her dress wet. As possible as I know it was for me, it was still a strange request. Then again, half of what she been saying since I found her either normally made no sense or contradict each other.

I stumbled a few times as we ran for the river. Frank and Hazel kept me on my feet.

When we reached the river bank, I stopped to catch my breath. The current was fast, but the river didn't look too deep. Not that it matter.

I may of not have my memories, but some part of me knew I was a strong swimmer. Like I spend a few years swimming for competition and to feel normal. Okay, where did that 'feel normal' come from?

"Go, Hazel." Frank nocked two arrows at once. "Escort Percy so the sentries don't shoot him it's my turn."

Hazel nodded and wadded into the stream.

I wanted to follow, but the look of the river made me hesitate at the idea of trying to swim it."

"You could always walk on it," June said.

"What?" I asked.

"Condense the water under your feet and walk on it," June said. "It will let you keep your Mark of Achilles, but will make it hard for you to be accepted. You will have to work harder to gain the Roman trust, and you will still suffer the curse that comes with the mark. But If you choose to swim, understand this. That there is the Little Tiber. It flows with the power of the original Tiber, river of the empire. If you swim in it, it will wash away any Greek blessings, including the mark."

"That's all?" I asked.

"Well, you can turn around all together and go for the ocean," June said. "Either way, know this, keep the mark guard your left arm pit and pace yourself while you're here. Loose the mark watch yourself as you will be vulnerable again."

Either way, I might as well be signing my death warrant. And what did June mean, guard my left armpit.

Behind us, the gorgons screeched as they flew from the tunnel. Frank let his arrows fly.

From the middle of the river, Hazel yelled, "Percy, come on!"

I remember how exhausted I was every time I trained with Lupa. She told me it was because of the blessing I had—the mark of Achilles. If I rid of it, I might not suffer from easily exhausted.

But then some part of me said: _I got the Mark to protect those around me._

I don't know if that was true, but it was worth it.

"I'm walking it," I said.

"Suit yourself—just remember to keep my dress dry," June said.

I quickly walked up to the river bank and let my instinct take over. I imagined the water condensing under my feet so I could walk on top of it. I got a tense tugging feeling in my gut, as the Little Tiber followed my will. When I stepped on the water, instead of falling in, I actually stand on it.

Hazel reached the other side and gawked at me as I walked on water to the other side.

At that moment the camp's gates opened and a dozen of kids in armor poured out.

Hazel looked like she wanted to ask how did I walk on water. But before she could, her expression changed to horror. "Frank!"

Frank was halfway across the river when the gorgons caught him. They swooped out of the sky and grabbed him by either arm. He screamed in pain as their claws dug into his skin.

The sentries yelled, but I knew they couldn't get a clear shot. They'd end up killing Frank. The other kids drew swords and got ready to charge into the water, but they'd be too late.

I could try my thermos, but I would be only able to summon one blast of water and against the gorgons, I'll need two. There was only one choice left.

I thrust out my hands. The intense tugging sensation in my gut returned, only worse than before. The Little Tiber surged. Whirlpools formed on either side of Frank. Giant watery hands erupted from the stream, copying my movements. The giant hands grabbed the gorgons dropped Frank in surprise. Then the hands lifted the squawking monsters in a liquid vise grip.

I heard the other kids yelping and backing away, but I stayed focus on my task. I made a smashing gestures with my fists to the ground, and the giant hands plunged the gorgons into the river. The monsters hit the bottom and broke into dust. Glittering clouds of gorgon essence struggled to reform, but the river pulled them apart like a bender. Soon ever trace of the gorgons was swept down stream. The whirlpools vanished, and the current return to normal. I stood at the river bank exhausted but rather proud of myself.

In the middle of the Little Tiber, Frank stumbled around, looking stunned but perfectly fine. Hazel wadded out and helped him ashore. It was about then I realized the other kid were suddenly quiet.

I looked to see that everyone was staring at me. Only the old lady June looked unfazed.

"Well, that was a lovely trip," she said. "Thank you, Percy Jackson, for bringing me to Camp Jupiter."

One of the girls made a choking sound. "Percy… Jackson."

She sounded as if she'd recognized my name. I focused on her, hoping to recognize her.

She was obviously the leader. She wore a regal purple cloak under her armor. Her chest was decorated with medals. She looked around my age—maybe younger, with dark, piercing eyes and long black hair. I didn't recognize her, but the girl stared at me with mix emotions, a combination of hatred and respect. As if she was still in a long debate whether I was friend or foe.

June laughed with delight. "Oh, yes. You'll have such fun together!"

Then, just because the day hadn't been weird enough already, the lady began to glow and change form. She grew until she was a shining, seven-foot-tall goddess in a blue dress, with a cloak that looked like goat's skin over her shoulders. Her face was stern and stately. In her hand was a staff topped with a lotus flower.

The campers looked even more stunned than they already were. The girl with the purple cloak knelt. The others followed her lead. One kid got down so hastily he almost impaled himself on his own sword.

Hazel was the first to speak. "Juno."

She and Frank fell to her knees, leaving me standing there alone. Deciding it was best—despite having to carry the lady so far—I knelt down as well.

The goddess smiled. "Rise Percy Jackson, for you have already done me a good deed."

I nodded reluctantly as I stood. For some reason I got this feeling I shouldn't be respectful to her anyways. Some part of me didn't like this goddess as if she caused me trouble in the past.

"So, since I done you a good deed, does that mean I get my memories back?" I asked.

"In time," the goddess said, "It may take bit longer since you chose to walk across the Tiber instead of swimming, but if you succeed here at camp, you will most definitely regain your memories. Either way, you shown there are still hope for your future."

She turned to the other kids. "Romans, I present to you the son of Neptune. For months he has been slumbering, but now he is awake. His fate is in your hands. The Feast of Fortune comes quickly, and Death must be unleashed if you are to stand any hope in the battle. Do not fail me."

Juno shimmered and disappeared. I looked at Hazel and Frank, hoping for some kind of explanation, but they were just as confused as I am. I noticed that Frank was holding two small clay flask with cork stoppers, like potions, one in each hand. I had no idea where they'd come from, but I saw Frank slip them into his pockets. Frank gave me a look like: _We'll talk about it later._

The girl in the purple cloak stepped forward. She examined me warily.

"So," she said coldly, "a son of Neptune, who comes to us with the blessing of Juno."

"I guess… to be honest most of my memory is gone," I said. "Do I know you?"

The girl hesitated. "I am Reyna, praetor of the Twelfth Legion. And… no, I don't know you."

I can tell that last part was a lie just by looking into her eyes. But I didn't want to argue against her in front of her soldiers.

"Very well," I said.

"Hazel," said Reyna, "bring him inside. I want to question him at the _principia_. Then we'll send him to Octavian. We must consult the auguries before we decide what to do with him?"

"If you mind me asking—ma'am," I said, "But what do you mean by 'decide what to do with' me?"

Reyna tightened her grip on her dagger as if she didn't like having her orders question. "Before we accept anyone into camp, we must interrogate them and read their auguries. Juno said your fate is in our hands. We have to know whether the goddess has brought us a new recruit or if she brought us an enemy to kill."

Reyna studied me studied me as if she was questioning that herself.


	3. Percy's POV Part III

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N:** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story. Because I KNOW I warn all of you about the first chapter before it started.

Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **Percy's POV Part III**

It's a good thing I'm not scared of ghost, because half of the people in camp were dead.

Shimmering purple warriors stood outside the armory, polishing ethereal swords. Others hung out in front of the barracks. A ghostly boy chased a ghostly dog down the street. And at the stables, a big glowing red dude with the head of a wolf guarded a herd of—believe it or not—unicorns. Hoses with horns sticking out of their heads.

None of the campers paid the ghost much attention, but as my entourage walk by, with Reyna in the lead and Frank and Hazel on either side, all the spirits stopped what they were doing to stare at me. A few looked angry. The little boy ghost shrieked "Graecus!" and turned invisible.

I wish I could turn invisible too. After weeks on my own, all this attention made me uneasy. I decided to stay between Hazel and Frank, and tried to look inconspicuous."

"Are those ghost?" I asked Hazel.

Hazel turned to me with startling eyes that looked like fourteen-karat gold. "They're Lares. House god."

"Also known as ancestral spirits," Frank explained. He'd removed his helmet, revealing a babyish face that didn't go with his military haircut or his big burly frame. He looked like a toddler who'd taken steroids and joined the Marines.

"The Lares are kind of like mascots," he continued. "Mostly they're harmless, but I've never seen them this agitated."

"The Lares kid called me Graecus," I said.

"It means Greek," Hazel said as if knowing I was going to ask. "Once you've been here awhile, you'll start understanding Latin. Demigods have a natural sense of it."

"Okay…" I said. "But why did he called me that? Is that a bad thing?"

Frank cleared his throat. "Maybe not. You've got that type of complexion, the dark hair and all. Maybe they think you're actually Greek. Is your family from there?"

"Don't know. My memory is gone."

"Well maybe it's just an insult then," Frank shrugged. "Sometimes Romans use _graecus_ as an insult for someone who's an outsider—someone who doesn't belong."

For some reason that made me feel better because I do feel like I don't belong here. But I can't help but shake this feeling that Frank was just saying that to make me feel better. Because from the way the Lares were looking at me, I think they consider me as an enemy.

We stopped at the center of camp where two wide stone-paved roads met at a **T**.

A street sign labeled the road to the main gates as VIA PRAETORIA. The other road, cutting across the middle of camp, was labeled via principalis. Under those markers were hand painted signs like BERKELEY 5 MILES; NEW ROME 1 MILE; OLD ROME 7280 MILES, HADES 2310 MILES (pointing straight down); RENO 208 MILES, and CERTAIN DEATH: YOU ARE HERE!

I decided not to question the 'CERTAIN DEATH' part. The place didn't look very dangerous, but then again I'm new here and the ways the Lares were glaring at me I don't want to push it.

Other than that, the camp actually was pretty cool. The place was clean and orderly. The buildings were freshly whitewashed, laid out in neat grids like the camp had been designed by a fussy math teacher. The barracks had shady porches, where campers lounged in hammocks or played cards and drank sodas. Each dorm had a different collection of banners out front displaying Roman numerals and various animals—eagle, bear, wolf, horse, and something that looked like a hamster.

Along the Via Praetoria, rows of shops advertised food, armor, weapons, coffee, gladiator equipment, and toga rentals. A chariot dealership had a big advertisement out front: CAESAR XLS W/ANTILOCK BRAKES, NO DENARII DOWN!

At the corner of the crossroads stood the most impressive building—a two-story wedge of white marble with a columned portico like an old fashioned bank. Roman guards stood out front. Over the doorway hung a big purple banner with the gold letters SPQR embroidered inside a laurel wreath.

"So this is the _principia?"_ I asked in amazement.

Reyna ignored my question as she turned and scanned the mob of curious campers who had followed us from the river. "Everyone back to your duties. I'll give you an update at evening muster. Remember, we have war games after dinner."

The thought of dinner made my stomach rumbled. The scent of barbecue from the dining hall made my mouth water. The bakery down the street smelled pretty wonderful too, but I doubt Reyna would let me get an order to go, and honestly the way she keeps staring at me, I don't want to ask.

The crowd dispersed reluctantly. Some muttered comments about my chances.

"He's dead."

"Would be _those_ two who find him."

"Yeah. Let him join the Fifth Cohort. Greeks and geeks."

Several kids laughed at that, but Reyna scowled at them, and they cleared off.

"Hazel," Reyna said. "Come with us. I want your report on what happened at the gates."

"Me too?" Frank said. "Percy saved my life. We've got to let him—"

Reyna gave Frank such a harsh look, he stepped back.

"I'd remind you, Frank Zhang," she said. "you are on _probatio_ yourself. You've caused enough trouble this week."

Frank's ears turned red. He fiddled with a little tablet on a cord around his neck that looked like a name tag made out of lead.

"Go to the armory," Reyna told him. "Check our inventory. I'll call you if I need you."

"But—" Frank caught himself. "Yes, Reyna."

He hurried off.

Reyna waved Hazel and me toward the _principia_ building. "Now, Percy Jackson, let's see if we can improve your memory."

Why do I have a feeling that by 'improving my memory' would mean 'trouble'?

…

The _principia_ were even more impressive inside. On the ceiling glittered a mosaic of Romulus and Remus under their adopted mama she-wolf (Lupa made sure I knew that story). The floor was polished marble. The walls were draped in velvet, so I felt like I was inside the world's most expensive camping tent. Along the back wall stood a display of banners and wooden poles studded with bronze medals—military symbols, I would have guessed. In the center of the room was one empty display stand, as if the main banner had been taken down for cleaning or something.

In the back corner, a stairwell led down. It was blocked by a row of iron bars like a prison. Two things came to my mind: What is down there and do I want to go down there to find out?

In the center of the room, a long wooden table was cluttered with scrolls, notebooks, tablet computers, daggers, and a large bowl filled with jelly beans, which seemed kind of out of place. Two life-sized statues of greyhounds—one silver, one gold—flanked the table. Reyna walked behind the table and sat in one of two-high backed chairs. I stayed standing with Hazel as I had a feeling that other chair was supposed to be for someone else in charge.

"So…" I started to say.

The dog statues bared their teeth and growled.

I froze. Normally I liked dogs, but these glared at me with ruby eyes. Their fangs looked sharp as razors. I realize they must be robotic dogs—Automaton made out of Gold and Silver. Although I had no idea how I knew that.

"Easy, guys," Reyna told the greyhounds.

They stopped growling, but kept eyeing me as though they were imagining me as leftovers in a doggie bag.

"They won't attack," Reyna said, "unless you try to steal something, or unless I tell them to. That's Argentum and Aurum."

"Silver and gold," I said. Hazel was right, the Latin meanings did popped in my head. Although I don't think it was natural, rather that I might have studied the language once and just don't remember it. It's possible since I have _no_ clue about my past.

Reyna set her dagger on the table. I had the vague feeling I've seen her before. Her hair was black and glossy as volcanic rock, woven in a single braid down her back. She had that poise of a sword fighter—relax yet vigilant, as if ready to spring into action at any moment. The worry lines around her eyes made her look older than she probably was.

I didn't want to be too direct about it, but if I met her before, I had to find out. Maybe she knows where Annabeth is at.

"Are you sure we haven't met before?" I asked. "Please, if you can tell  
me—"

"First thing first," Reyna said. "I want to hear your story. What _do_ you remember? How did you get here? And don't lie. My dogs don't like liars."

Argentum and Aurum snarled to emphasize the point.

I sighed in defeat and told Reyna my story—how I'd woken up at the ruined mansion in the woods of Sonoma. I described my time with Lupa and her pack, learning their language of gestures and expressions, learning to survive and fight.

Lupa had taught me about demigods, monsters and gods. She'd explained that she was one of the guardian spirits of Ancient Rome. Demigods like me were still responsible for carrying on Roman traditions in modern times—fighting monsters, serving the gods, protecting mortals, and upholding the memory of the empire. She'd spent weeks training me, until I was strong and tough and vicious as a wolf. When she was satisfied with my skills, she'd sent me south, telling me that if I survived my journey, I might find a new home and regain my memory and make sense of the a line of what I guess was a prophecy: _You'll be one of the seven greatest heroes of your generation… possibly of all time_.

None of this seemed to surprise Reyna—except the last part, that caught her off guard, but she quickly hid it. Still there was one thing she asked.

"That's all you remember?" she asked. "Nothing else."

"Everything else is fuzzy," I replied. I didn't bring up Annabeth as it was a bit personal. The only thing I remember about Annabeth was her face, her blonde hair that curled at the end, her gray eyes, the way she laughed, threw her arms around me and kiss me.

I feared that if I spoke about that memory to anyone, it would evaporate like a dream. I couldn't risk that.

"Oh—but I do believe I had a wrist watch," I pointed at my left wrist. "I think it has some connection to my past, but when I woke up at the Wolf House I didn't have it."

Reyna frowned like that part was new even to her. She spun her dagger. "I don't know about your wristwatch, or what happened to your memories, but everything else you described is normal for demigods. At a certain age, one way or another, we find our way to the Wolf House. We're tested and trained. If Lupa thinks we're worthy, she sends us south to join the legion. How did you find Camp Jupiter if you had no memory though?"

I told her about the last three days—the gorgons who wouldn't die, the old lady who turned out to be a goddess, and finally meeting Hazel and Frank.

Hazel took the story from there. She described me as brave and heroic, which made me uncomfortable.

But when I brought up about the Mark of Achilles, Reyna's eyes flashed in a warning.

"If we recruited you, I wouldn't go telling everyone in camp about that mark. In fact, I would recommend that you come up with a cover story," Reyna said in a way that made me think she did care in her own way. "I'll let it slid since Juno let you keep it, but the mark of Achilles is considered a Greek Blessing, and Romans don't take to kindly to that."

I quickly nodded.

"Still, for you have it would meant you had a swim in the River of Styx in the Underworld," Reyna said. "And it would explain how you survived this long. You're what, sixteen?"

"I think so," I said.

"That mark could have been what kept you alive while you were on your own with no help. Most would be dead without them. And the fact you're a son of Neptune would mean you have a powerful aura that would attract all kinds of monsters. But still, the fact you controlled the water of the Little Tiber and the fact you survive so long against the Gorgon sisters led me to believe you had training. Which means, you must've been somewhere before the Wolf House."

I shrugged. Juno had said something about me slumbering, and I _did_ have a vague feeling that I'd been asleep—maybe for along time. But that didn't make any sense to me."

Reyna sighed. "Well, the dogs haven't eaten you, so I suppose you're telling the truth."

She stood up and paced in front of the banners. Her metal dogs watched her go back and forth.

"Even if I accept you're not an enemy," she said, "You're not a typical recruit. The Queen of Olympus simply doesn't appear at camp, announcing a new demigod. Especially if that _prediction_ you mention is about you."

I wanted to argue that it was, but I kept my mouth shut as Reyna continued.

"The last time a major god visited us in person like that…" She shook her head. "I've only heard legends about such things. And a son of Neptune… that's not normally a good omen. Especially now."

"What's wrong with Neptune?" I asked. "And what do you mean, 'especially now'?"

Hazel shot me a warning look.

Reyna kept pacing. "You've fought Medusa's sisters, who haven't been seen in thousands of years. You've agitated our Lares, who are calling you a _graecus_. You bare the Mark of Achilles. And you wear strange symbols—that shirt, the beads on your necklace. What do they mean?"

I looked down at my tattered orange T-shirt. It might have had words on it at one time, but they were too faded to read. I should have thrown the shirt away weeks ago. It was worn to shreds, but I couldn't bear to get rid of it. I just kept washing it in streams and water fountains as best as I could and putting it back on.

As for the necklace, the nine clay beads were each decorated with a different symbol. The first one was a pine tree that I felt connected too the most. The second one was what I think was a centaur in a prom dress. The third one was a ship—a trireme I think—on fire. The fourth one was a winged shoes. The fifth one was a silver arrow. The sixth one was a lightning bolt. The seventh one was what I think was a golden Ram's fleece. The eighth one was an etch with the design of a maze. The last one had an image of an image of a building—maybe the Empire State Building?—with names I didn't recognize engraved around it.

Each bead felt important, like pictures from a family album, but I couldn't remember what they meant. And why would someone take my wristwatch but leave my necklace if it has connections to my past.

"I don't know," I finally said.

"Your thermos?" Reyna asked.

I unclipped my thermos and handed it to her. "Please be careful with it. I think it was a gift from my dad."

I expected Reyna to shot at me about telling her what to do Reyna nodded like she understand. She unscrewed the lid and looked inside.

"The inside is coated with fossilize sea shells," Reyna noted.

I nodded. "I think it's the reason why if I focus my power into it, I can summon a blast of water," I said.

Reyna nodded in understanding before screwing the lid shut and handing it back to me. "And your sword?"

I clipped the thermos back onto my belt before checked my pocket. The pen had reappeared as it always did. I pulled it out before realizing I'd never shown Reyna my sword—or my thermos. Hazel and Frank might of saw my thermos when we fought the gorgons but not my sword. How had Reyna know about them?

Well, it was too late to pretend they didn't exist especially after showing Reyna my Thermos. Then I uncapped the pen and Riptide sprang to full form. Hazel gasped. The greyhounds barked apprehensively.

"What is that?" Hazel asked. "I've never seen a sword like that."

"I have," Reyna said darkly. "It's very old—a Greek design. We used to have a few in the armory before…" She stopped herself. "The metal is called Celestial bronze. It's deadly to monsters, like Imperial gold, but rarer. If made right, can use the Mist to fool mortals. I take it that's what the outside of your thermos is made from?"

I never thought of it much, but now I think about it, the outside of my Thermos did look like it was made out of bronze, and whenever I used it, the mortals didn't think much of it. I thought it was just naturally due to the Mist though, but now it made sense.

"Yeah, it is," I said. "But what's Imperial gold?"

Reyna unsheathed her dagger. Sure enough, the blade was gold. "The metal was consecrated in ancient times, at the Pantheon in Rome. Its existence was closely guarded secret of the emperors—a way for their champions to slay monsters that threatened the empire. We used to have more weapons like this, but now… well, we scrape by. I use this dagger. Hazel has a _spatha_ , cavalry sword. Most legionnaires use a shorter sword called a _gladius_. But that weapon of yours is not Roman at all. It's another sign you're not a typical demigod. And your arm…"

"What about it?" I asked.

Reyna held up her own forearm. I didn't notice it before, but she had a tattoo on the inside: the letters SPQR, a crossed sword and torch, and under that four parallel lines like scorch marks.

I glanced at Hazel.

"We all have them," she confirmed, holding up her arm. "All full members of the legion do."

Hazel's tattoo also had the letters SPQR, but she only had one scorch mark, and her emblem was different: a black glyph like a cross with a curved arms and a head.

I looked at my own arms. There was some mud and a fleck of Crispy cheese 'n' Wiener, but no tattoos.

"So you've never been a member of the legion," Reyna said. "These marks can't be removed. I thought perhaps…" she shook her head, as if dismissing an idea.

Hazel leaned forward. "If he's survived as a loner all this time, maybe he'd seen Jason." She turned to me. "Have you ever met a demigod like us before name Jason Grace? He would be the son of Jupiter A guy in a purple shirt, with marks on his arm including an eagle—"

Out of nowhere I had a strong stabbing pain behind my eyes. I rubbed my eyes.

"Hey! Are you okay?" Reyna asked.

That name: Jason Grace… I knew that name from somewhere—and especially the name Grace. And the whole son of Jupiter—I felt like I should know something about it. But the more I tried to think back the pain worsen. I leaned forward trying.

Eventually the pain subsided.

"Are you okay?" Hazel asked.

"Yeah, I just… I had a really bad headache." Which was true, whatever about that name Jason, it triggered something.

"I think we should drop the subject until we know for certain about Percy's past," Reyna suggested.

I nodded and took my sword. I touched the point of Riptide with the cap and it shrank down into pen form.

"Sorry about that," I said.

"Has that happen before?" Reyna asked.

"Once in a while, but that was the most tense one yet," I said. "How long have your colleague been gone?"

"Last October," Reyna said." The legion normally has two elected praetors. Jason was our other praetor until he disappeared."

"But he might not be dead," Hazel said. "We haven't given up."

Reyna grimaced. I got the feeling this Jason guy might be more to her than a colleague.

"Either way, elections happen in two ways," Reyna said. "Either the legion raises someone on a shield after a major success on the battlefield—which we haven't had any major battles—or we hold a ballot on the evening of June 24, at the Feast of Fortuna. That's in five days."

"Fortuna—that's the goddess of luck right?" I asked.

"Yes," Hazel replied. "Whatever happens on her feast day can affect the entire rest of the year. She can grant the camp good luck… or _really_ bad luck."

Reyna and Hazel both glanced at the empty display stand, as if thinking about what was missing.

A chill went down my back. "The Feast of Fortuna… The gorgons mention that. So did Juno. They said the camp was going to be attacked on that day, something about a big bad goddess name Gaea, and an army, and Death being unleashed. You're telling me that day is this _week_?"

Reyna's fingers tightened around the hilt of her dagger.

"You will say nothing about that outside this room," she ordered. "I will not have you spreading more panic in the camp."

I nodded. I wanted to ask more about it, but it was clear Reyna has closed the matter.

"I think that's enough talking for now," Reyna said. "Hazel, take him to Temple Hill. Find Octavian. On the way you can answer Percy's questions. Tell him about the legion."

"Yes, Reyna."

"And Percy," Reyna said. "If you are allowed to join, remember what I said about the Mark of Achilles and anything else you might remember about it."

I remember what the Gorgons said about a vulnerable spot and what Juno said about my left armpit. I nodded.

"Good luck with the augury, Percy Jackson," Reyna said as she sheathed her dagger. "If Octavian lets you live, perhaps we can compare notes… about your past."


	4. Percy's POV Part IV

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N:** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story. Because I KNOW I warn all of you about the first chapter before it started.

Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **Percy's POV Part IV**

On the way out of camp, Hazel bought me an espresso drink and a cherry muffin from Bombilo the two-headed coffee merchant.

I inhaled the muffin. The coffee was great. Now, I thought, if I could just get a shower, a change of clothes, and some sleep, I'd be golden. Maybe even Imperial gold.

I watched a bunch of kids and swimsuits and towels headed into a building that had steam coming out of a row of chimneys Laughter and water sounds echoed from inside, like it was an indoor pool—my kind of place.

"Bath house," Hazel said. We'll get you in there before dinner, hopefully. You haven't lived until you've had a Roman bath." I sighed with anticipation.

As we approached the front gate, the barracks got bigger and nicer. Even the ghosts looked better—with fancier armor and shinier auras. I tried to decipher the banners and symbols hanging in front of the buildings.

"You guys are divided into different cabins?" I asked.

"Sort of." Hazel ducked as a kid riding a giant eagle swooped overhead. "We have five cohorts of about forty kids each. Each cohort is divided into barracks of ten—like roommates, kind of."

"Wait, then there are two hundred kids at camp?" I asked after doing the math.

"Roughly."

"And _all_ of them are children of the gods? The gods have been busy."

Hazel laughed. "Not all of them are children of the _major_ gods. There are hundreds of minor Roman gods. Plus, a lot of the campers are legacies—second or third generation. Maybe their parents were demigods. Or their grandparents."

I blinked. "Children of demigods?"

"Why? Does that surprise you?"

Now that I think about it, I guess not. The last few weeks I'd been so worried about surviving day to day, but after coming here, I guess demigods _could_ survive the real world after training so long. I guess it's possible if they're fortunate they can have kids.

"So these Legacies… do they all have powers like a demigod?" I asked.

"Sometimes. Sometimes not. But they can be trained. All the best Roman generals and emperors—you know, they all claimed to be descended from gods. Most of the time, they were telling the truth. The camp augur we're going to meet, Octavian, he's a legacy, descendant of Apollo. He's got the gift of prophecy."

I froze. "Really?"

"Well supposedly." Hazel made a sour face. "You'll see."

At first I was anxious to meeting someone who can see into the future, as they can make sense of that line that keeps replaying in my head. Then again, the way Hazel brought up Octavian made me rethink it.

"So the divisions," I asked, "the cohorts-are you divided according to who your godly parent is?"

Hazel stared at me. "What a horrible idea! No, the officers decide where to assign recruits. If we were divided according to god, the cohorts would be all uneven. I'd be alone."

"Why? What's your ancestry?"

Before she could answer, someone behind us yelled, "Wait!"

A ghost ran toward us—an old man with a medicine-ball belly and toga so long he kept tripping on it. He caught up to us and gasped for air, his purple aura flickering around him.

"This is him?" the ghost panted. "A new recruit for the Fifth, perhaps?"

"Vitellius," Hazel said, "we're sort of in a hurry."

The ghost scowled at me and walked around me, inspecting me like I was a used car. "I don't know," he grumbled. "We need only the best for the cohort. Does he have all his teeth? Can he fight? Does he clean stables?"

"I have all my teeth, I can fight, and I don't' clean stables," I said, "Who are you?"

"Percy, this is Vitellius." Hazel's expression said: _Just humor him_. "He's one of our Lares; he takes an interest in new recruits."

"Oh," I said, still feeling uncomfortable but I might as well humor this Lares. "Well I can also walk on water, condense water, control water, and with my thermos"—I took out my thermos and showed it to him—"I can summon a water blast out. And it's possible I can do other stuff."

"Really," the ghost said looking me over. "Not much a Roman style, but then again you _are_ a son of Neptune, right?"

On a nearby porch, other ghost snickered as Vitellius paced back and forth around me, tripping over his toga and hiking up his sword belt.

"Yes," Vitellius said, "back in Caesar's day—that's _Julius_ Caesar, mind you—the Fifth Cohort was something Twelfth Legion Fulminata, pride of Rome! But these days? Disgraceful what we've come to. Look at Hazel here, using a _spathe_. Ridiculous weapon a Roman legionnaire—that's for calvary! And you, boy—you claim to be a descent fighter—But you smell like a Greek sewer. Haven't you had a bath?"

"I been fighting Gorgons the past three days. It was kind of hard to take a descent bath while I'm trying to kill powerful monsters," I stated.

That seemed to impress Vitellius. "I suppose so."

"Vitellius," Hazel interrupted, "we've got to get Percy's augury before he can join. Why don't you check on Frank? He's in the armory doing inventory. You _know_ how much he values your help."

The ghost's furry purple eyebrows shot up. "Mars Almighty! They let the _probatio_ check the armor? We'll be ruined!"

He stumbled off down the street, stopping every few feet to pick up his sword or rearrange his toga."

Hazel turned to me. "Sorry. Vitellius' eccentric, but he's one of the oldest Lares. Been around since the legion was founded.

"He called the legion… _Fulminata?"_ I asked.

"Armed with Lightning," Hazel translated. "That's our motto. The Twelfth Legion was around for the entire Roman Empire. When Rome fell, a lot of the legions just disappeared. We went underground, acting on secret orders from Jupiter himself: stay alive, recruit demigods and their children, keep Rome going. We've been doing that ever since, moving around to wherever Roman influence was strongest. The last few centuries, we've been in America."

That sounded familiar, like I heard the story before. I quickly pushed it aside as I didn't want to collapse from another headache before I meet this Octavian guy.

"So is it really true you're invulnerable?" Hazel asked.

"Mostly," I said, "According to the gorgons, I have one vulnerable spot… I just can't remember where."

"So then if I stab you, unless its at your one weakspot, you can't be killed."

"Not by weapon no. But I can't help but shake this feeling that if I'm not careful, there are other ways for me to get killed," I said. "Possibly ways we can kill people now that we couldn't use in ancient times."

Hazel nodded. "Makes sense."

I decided to change the topic so other Romans don't hear this.

"So you're in the Fifth Cohort," I said.

Hazel scowled like it was a bad thing. "Yeah. I joined up last September. Before Jason—"

She stopped herself but I got the message. Jason disappeared a month after she joined.

"Come on," Hazel said. "I'll show you my favorite view."

…

We stopped outside the main gates. The fort was situated on the highest point of the valley, so we could see pretty much everything.

The road led down to the river and divided. One path led south across a bridge, up to the hill with all the temples. The other road led north into the city, a miniature version of Ancient Rome. Unlike the military camp, the city looked chaotic and colorful, with buildings crowded together at haphazard angles. Even from this far away, I could see people gathered in the plaza, shoppers milling around an open air market, parents with kids playing in the parks.

"You've got families here?" I asked.

"In the city, absolutely," Hazel said. "When you're accepted into the legion, you do ten years of service. After that, you can muster out if you want to. Most demigods go into the mortal world. But for some—well, it's pretty dangerous out there. This valley is a sanctuary. You can go to college in the city, get married, have kids, retired when you get old. It's the only safe place on earth for people like us. So yeah, a lot of veterans make their homes there under the protection of the legion."

I gripped my beaded necklace—all nine beads. I can't help but shake this feeling I was near my tenth year. But of what? Being a loner? I can't remember.

Adult demigod. Demigods who could live without fear, get married, raise a family. That was another thing I couldn't wrap my mind around. It seemed too good to be true. "But if this valley is attacked?"

Hazel pursed her lips. "We have defenses. The borders are magical. But our strength isn't what it used to be. Lately, the monster attacks have been increasing. What you said about gorgons not dying… we've noticed that too, with other monsters."

"Do you know what's causing it?"

Hazel looked away. I could tell she was holding something back—something she wasn't supposed to say.

"It's—it's complicated," she said, "She said. "My brother says Death isn't—"

She was interrupted by an elephant.

Someone behind us shouted, "Make way!"

Hazel dragged me out of the road as a demigod rode past on a full-grown pachyderm covered in black Kevlar armor. The word elephant was printed on the side of his armor, which seemed obvious to me.

The elephant thundered down the road and turned north, heading toward a big open field where some fortification were under construction.

I spit dust out of my mouth. "Was that an elephant in a bulletproof vest?"

"Yeah," Hazel said. "His name is Hannibal."

"Why is he in a bulletproof vest?" I asked.

"War games tonight," Hazel said. "If we didn't include him, he'd get upset."

"I guess we can't have that, then," I joked.

Hazel laughed. It was hard to believe just a moment ago, she was moody. I wondered what she'd was about to say. She had a brother. Yet she had claimed she'd be alone if the camp sorted her by her godly parent.

I couldn't figure this girl out. She seemed nice and easy going, mature for somebody who couldn't have been more than thirteen (which is starting reminded of something or someone else I can't remember). But she also seemed to be hiding a deep sadness, like she felt guilty about something.

Hazel pointed south across the river. Dark clouds were gathering over Temple Hill. Red flashes of lightning washed over the monuments in blood colored light.

"Octavian is busy," Hazel said. "We'd better get over there."

On the way, we passed some goat-legged guys hanging out on the side of the road. When we pass them, my mind went into thinking they were Satyrs—even though I had no idea how I knew that.

"Hazel!" one of them cried.

He trotted over with a big grin on his face. He wore a faded Hawaiian shirt and nothing for pants so all I could see his brown goat fur. His massive Afro jiggled. His eyes were hidden behind little round rainbow-tinted glasses. He held a cardboard sign that read: WILL WORK SING TALK GO AWAY FOR DENARII.

"Hi, Don," Hazel said. "Sorry, we don't have time—"

"Oh, that's cool! That's cool!" Don trotted along with us. "Hey, this guy's new!" He grinned at me. "Do you have three denarii for the bus? Because I left my wallet at home, and I've got to get to work, and—"

"Don," Hazel chided. "Fauns don't have wallets. Or jobs. Or homes. And we don't have buses?"

Fauns? I thought he was a Satyr. I guess Fauns are another name for them.

"Right," Don said cheerfully, "but do you have denarri?"

"Sorry, I don't," I responded. "Why don't fauns have jobs? Shouldn't they work for the camp?"

Don bleated. "Fauns! Work for the camp! Hilarious!"

"Fauns are, um, free spirits," Hazel explained. "They hang out here because, well, it's a safe place to hang out and beg. We tolerate them, but—"

"Oh, Hazel is awesome," Don said. "She's so nice! All the other campers are like, 'Go away, Don.' But she's like, 'Please go away, Don.' I love her!'

The faun seemed harmless, but I still found him unsettling. I couldn't shake the feeling that fauns should be more than just homeless guys begging for denarii.

Don looked at the ground in front of them and gasped. "Score!"

He reached for something, but Hazel screamed, "Don, no!"

She pushed him out of the way and snatched up a small shiny object. I caught glimpse of it before Hazel slipped it into her pocket. I could have sworn it was a diamond.

"Come on, Hazel," Don complained. "I could've bought a year's worth of doughnuts with that!"

"Don, please," Hazel said. "Go away."

She sounded shaken, like she'd just saved Don from a charging bulletproof elephant.

The faun sighed. "Aw, I can't stay mad at you. But I swear, it's like you're good luck. Every time you walk by—"

"Good-bye, Don," Hazel said quickly. "Let's go Percy."

She started jogging. I had to sprint to catch up.

Hazel looked like she didn't want to talk—at least about the diamond. But I was curious of where it came from and why Hazel took it away before Don.

We walked uneasy silence the rest of the way to Temple Hill. A crooked stone path led past a crazy assortment of tiny altars and massive dome vaults. Statues of the gods seemed to follow me with their eyes.

Hazel pointed out what she called the Temple of Bellona. "Goddess of war," she said. "That's Reyna's mom." Then we passed a massive red crypt decorated with human skulls on iron spikes.

"Please tell me we're not going in there," I said.

Hazel shook her head. "That's the Temple of Mars Ultor."

I froze as my blood turned cold for reasons I can't remember. "Mars… Ares, the war god?"

"That's his Greek name," Hazel said. "But, yeah, same guy. Ultor means 'the Avenger.' Father of Romulus and Remus and second-most important god in Rome."

I knew about Romulus and Remus being Mars' kids (Lupa told me). But I rather not look at the temple.

I pointed toward the summit. Clouds swirled over the largest temple, a round pavilion with a ring of white columns supporting a dome roof. "I'm guesing that's Zeus—uh, I mean Jupiter's? That's where we're heading?"

"Yeah." Hazel sounded edgy. "Octavian reads auguries there—the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus."

It took me a while to understand the Latin. "Jupiter… the best and the greatest?"

"Right."

"What's Neptune's title?" I asked. "Where's his temple?"

"Over there." Hazel gestured to a small blue building the size of a toolshed. A cobweb-covered trident was nailed above the door.

I peeked inside. On a small altar sat a bowl with three dried-up moldy apples. My heart sank at the sight.

"I'm sorry, Percy," Hazel said. "It's just… Romans were always scared of the sea. They only used ships if they _had_ to. Even in modern times, having a child of Neptune around has always been a bad omen. The last time one joined the legion… well, it was 1906, when Camp Jupiter was located across the bay in San Francisco. There was this huge earthquake—"

"You're telling me a child of Neptune caused that?"

"So they say." Hazel looked apologetic. "Anyway… Romans fear Neptune, but they don't love him much."

I stared at the cobwebs on the trident. Great. I joined a camp that doesn't love my dad and I kept a mark that will make it harder for me to be accepted.

Still… as I stand at my dad's altar, I felt something stirring inside me, like waves rippling through my veins.

I reached into my backpack and dug out the last bit of food from my trip—a stale bagel. It wasn't much, but I set it on the altar.

"Hey Dad," I said. "If you can hear me, help me out, okay? Give me my memory, or at least help me out."

My voice cracked from being exhausted and scared. I'd been lost for so long, I would've given anything for guidance. I wanted to know something about my life for sure, without grabbing for missing memories.

At that moment though, I felt a warm familiar feeling, as if my dad was listening. I looked over my head, as if hoping to see something for some reason, but all I saw was the trident at the entrance.

Hazel put her hand on my shoulder. "It'll be okay. You're here now. You're one of us."

I nodded.

Above us, thunder rumbled. Red lightning lit up the hill.

"Octavian's almost done," Hazel said. "Let's go."

…

Compared to Neptune's temple, Jupiter's was definitely optimus and maximus.

The marble floor was etched with fancy mosaics and Latin inscriptions. Sixty feet above, the dome ceiling sparkled gold. The whole temple was open to the wind.

In the center stood a marble altar, where a kid in a toga was doing some sort of ritual in front of a massive golden statue of the sky god himself: Jupiter, dressed in a silk XXXL purple toga, holding a lightning bolt that doesn't look right.

I could have sworn it should have looked different from that.

The kid at the altar raised his hands. More red lightning flashed in the sky, shaking the temple. Then he put his hands down, and the rumbling stopped. The clouds turned from gray to white and broke apart.

I must admit, it was impressive, especially since the kid didn't look like much. He was tall and skinny, with straw-colored hair, oversized jeans, a baggy T-shirt, and a drooping toga. He looked like a scarecrow wearing a bedsheet.

Then, as if sensing we were here, the guy turned to us. He had a crooked smile and a slightly crazy look in his eyes, like he'd just been playing an intense video game. In one hand was something that looked like a dead animal. That didn't make this guy look any less crazy.

"Percy," Hazel said, "this is Octavian."

"The _graecus_ ," Octavian announced. "How interesting, but don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

He had a look that said unless you anger me.

"Uh, hi," I said. "Are you killing small animals?"

Octavian looked at the fuzzy thing in his hand and laughed. "No, no. Once upon a time, yes. We used to read the will of the gods by examining animal guts—chickens, goats, that sort of things. Nowadays, we used these."

He tossed me the fuzzy thing. What I thought was a small animal turned out to be a disemboweled teddy bear. Then I noticed that there was a whole pile of mutilated stuff animals at the foot of Jupiter's statue.

Octavian stepped off the dais. He was probably about eighteen, but so skinny and sickly pale, he could've passed for younger. At first he looked harmless, but as he got closer, I wasn't so sure. Octavian's eyes glittered with harsh curiosity, like he might gut me just as easily as a teddy bear if he thought he could learn something from it. There was something else about his appearance—beside the crazy look in his eyes—that reminded me of someone that I can't but made me feel sad.

Octavian narrowed his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Sorry, it's just—you remind me of someone," I said, "I can't remember who."

"Possibly my namesake, Octavian—Augustus Caesar. Everyone says I bear a remarkable resemblance."

I doubt it was that, but I decided not to argue. "Why did you call me 'The Greek with invulnerability'?"

"I saw it in the auguries," Octavian waved his knife at the pile of stuffing on the altar. "The message said: _The Greek whose blessed with invulnerability has arrived._ Of course I might be wrong. I'm thinking the first interpretation is correct. You seek to join the legion?"

Hazel spoke for me. She told Octavian everything that had happened since we met at the tunnel—the gorgons, the fight at the river, the appearance of Juno, our conversation with Reyna. I even brought up my prediction. I don't know why. I guess if he's speaks the word of the gods and legacy of Apollo it was worth it.

Octavian was surprised when Hazel brought up Juno, but was shock at the line I mention as well as a bit disappointed as if he was hoping I was something he was looking for.

"Juno," he mused. "We call her Juno Moneta. Juno the Warner. She appears in times of crisis, to counsel the Rome about great threats. But to bring one destined to be—what did you say: One of the Seven greatest Heroes of all times'? That sends mix signs. Did you get the prediction from a child or legacy of Apollo?"

"I don't know—I can't remember anything," I stated. "But from what I been told, the gorgons warned there'd be an invasion during the Feast of Fortuna, which is this week. Have you seen anything like that in your stuffing?"

"Sadly, no." Octavian sighed. The will of the gods is hard to discern. And these days, my vision is even darker."

"Don't you have an oracle or something?" I asked finding myself once again saying something I have no clue where it came from but I tried not to show it.

"An Oracle!" Octavian smiled. "What a cute idea. No, I'm afraid we're fresh out of oracles. Now, if we'd gone questing for the Sibylline books, like I recommended—"

"The what?" It was rare for me to find something that I didn't know about as for some reason—possibly due to my forgotten past—I find myself knowledgeable about most Myths and legends. But I feel like ever since I woke up at the Wolf House, I been facing stuff I never knew about.

"Books of Prophecy," Hazel said. "which Octavian is _obsessed_ with. Romans used to consult them when disaster happened. Most people believed they burned up when Rome fell."

"Some people believe that," Octavian corrected. "Unfortunately our present leadership won't authorize a quest to look for them—"

"Because Reyna isn't stupid," Hazel said.

"—so we have only a few remaining scraps from the books," Octavian continued. "A few mysterious predictions, like these."

He nodded to the inscription on the marble floor. I stared at the lines of words, not really expecting to understand them. I almost choked.

"That one." I pointed, translating as I read aloud: _"Seven half-bloods shall answer the call. To storm or fire the world must fall—"_

"Yes, yes." Octavian finished it without looking: _"An oath to keep with final breath, And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death."_

"I—I know that one." I thought as thunder was shaking the temple again. My body was trembling as I said. "I think—I think it has to do with my prediction."

Octavian arched an eyebrow. "That is quite an accusation. We call it the Prophecy of Seven, but it's thousands years old. We don't know what it means. Every time someone tries to interpret it… Well, Hazel can tell you. Bad things happen."

I wanted to argue against Octavian. I was now _certain_ the two were connected.

"Just read the augury for Percy." Hazel was glaring at him. "Can he join the legion or not?"

I could almost see Octavian's mind working, calculating whether or not I would be useful in battle or at least be a human shield with my invulnerability. He held out his hand for my backpack. "That's a beautiful specimen. May I?"

I didn't understand what he meant, but Octavian snatched the Bargain Mart panda pillow that was sticking out of the top of my pack. It was just a silly stuffed toy, but I had carried it for so long, I was kind of fond of it. Octavian turned toward the altar and raised his knife.

"Hey!" I protested.

Octavian slashed open the panda's belly and poured its stuffing over the altar. He tossed the panda carcass aside, muttering a few words over the fluff and turned with a big smile on his face.

"Good news!" he said. "Percy may join the legion. We'll assign him a cohort at evening muster. Tell Reyna that I approve."

Hazel's shoulders relaxed. "Uh… great. Come on, Percy."

"Oh, and Hazel," Octavian said. "I'm happy to welcome Percy into the legion. But when the election for praetor comes up, I hope you'll remember—"

"Jason _isn't_ dead," Hazel snapped. "You're the augur. You're supposed to be looking for him!"

"Oh, I am!" Octavian pointed at the pile of gutted stuffed animals. "I consult the gods every day! Alas, after eight months, I've found nothing. Of course, I'm still looking. But if Jason doesn't return by the Feast of Fortuna, we must act. We can't have a power vacuum any longer. I hope you'll support me for praetor. It would mean so much to me."

Hazel clenched her fists. "Me. Support. You?"

Octavian took off his toga, setting it and his knife on the altar. I noticed seven lines on Octavian's arm—representing seven years I would guess. Octavian's mark was a lyre, the symbol of Apollo.

"After all," Octavian told Hazel, "I might be able to help you. It would be a shame if those awful rumors about you kept circulating… or, gods forbid, if they turn out to be true."

I reached for my pocket to grab my pen. This guy was blackmailing Hazel. That was obvious. One sign from Hazel, and I was ready to bust out Riptide and see how Octavian liked being at the other end of the blade. I could use my thermos too, but I doubt Jupiter would be grateful for a display of a son of Neptune's power in his temple.

Hazel took a deep breath. Her knuckles were white. "I think about it."

"Excellent. Percy, I hope for your vote too if you get the chance," Octavian turned to me. "After all, I'm sure you don't want the rest of the camp to find out about your Greek Blessing—or gods forbid, your weakness."

That time I took out my pen by Hazel stopped me.

"He's not worth it," Hazel said.

I glared at Octavian and pulled back. As much as I wanted to use my sword on this punk, Hazel was right. Besides, I'm pretty sure killing an augur would ruin any chances I have on joining the legion.

Octavian smirked. "By the way, Hazel, your brother is here."

Hazel stiffened. "My brother? Why?"

Octavian shrugged. "Why does your brother do _anything_? He's waiting for you at your father's shrine. Just… ah, don't invite him to stay too long. He has a disturbing effect on the others. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to keep searching for our poor lost friend, Jason. Nice to meet you, Percy."

Hazel stormed out of the pavilion and I followed, not wanting to be here any longer than I have too.

…

As Hazel marched down the hill, she cursed in Latin. I didn't understand all of them, but the ones I did understand I knew were inappropriate.

"I _hate_ that guy," she muttered in English. "If I had my way—"

"He won't really get elected praetor, will he?" I asked.

"I wish I could be certain. Octavian has a lot of friends, most of them _bought_. The rest of the campers are afraid of him. Trust me, Percy, Reyna is no where near as bad as Octavian, and if he had her power…" Hazel shuddered. "Let's go see my brother. He'll want to meet you."

I didn't argue. I wanted to meet this mysterious brother. I didn't want to ask Hazel what Octavian meant and I hope to all the gods that whatever Octavian had over her wasn't as bad as he made it sound.

Plus, I was still ticked off about what Octavian said earlier. How on earth did he know about my mark of Achilles? We never brought it up to him, or gave any hints—just as Reyna told me not too.

Hazel led me to a black crypt built into the side of the hill. Standing in front was a teenage boy in black jeans and an aviator jacket.

"Hey," Hazel called. "I've brought a friend."

The boy turned.

I had another one of those weird flashes that I get when I come across someone I should know along with sometimes headaches.

The kid was almost as bad as Octavian, but with dark eyes and messy black hair. He didn't look anything like Hazel. He wore a silver skull ring, a chain for a belt and a black T-shirt with skull designs. At his side hung a pure black sword.

For a microsecond when he saw me, the boy seemed shocked, panicked even, like he'd been caught in a searchlight.

"This is Percy Jackson," Hazel said. "He's a good guy. Percy, this is my brother, the son of Pluto."

The boy regained his composure and held out his hand. "Pleased to meet you," he said. I'm Nico di Angelo."


	5. Hazel's POV Part I

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N:** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story. Because I KNOW I warn all of you about the first chapter before it started.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **Hazel's POV Part I**

I feel like I'd just introduced two nuclear bombs. Now I was waiting to see which one will explode first.

Until this morning, I thought my brother Nico was the most powerful demigod I knew. The others at Camp Jupiter saw him as a traveling oddball, about as harmless as fauns. But I knew better. I didn't grow up with Nico, in fact, I haven't even known him very long. But I knew Nico was more dangerous than Reyna, or Octavian, or maybe even Jason.

Then I met Percy.

At first, when I saw him stumbling up the highway with an old lady in his arms, I thought he might be a god in disguise. Even though he was beat up, dirty, and stooped with exhaustion, he had an aura of power. He had the good looks of a Roman god, with sea-green eyes, wind-blown black hair, and the muscular frame of someone who'd spend almost ten years training.

I ordered Frank not to fire on him. I thought the gods might be testing us. I heard myths like that: a kid with an old lady begs for shelter, and when the rude mortal refuse— _boom_ , they get turned into banana slugs.

Then Percy had controlled the river, and destroyed the gorgons. He turned a pen into a bronze sword. He was invulnerable through most of his body. He claimed to be able to fire a water blast from his thermos (which after the river incident I can believe). He'd stirred up the whole camp with talk about the _graecus_.

A son of the sea god…

Long ago, I was told that a descendant of Neptune would save me. But could Percy really take away my curse? It seemed too much to hope for.

Percy and Nico shook hands. They studied each other warily, and I fought the urge to run. If these two busted out the magic swords, things could get ugly.

Nico didn't appear scary. He was skinny and sloppy in his rumpled black clothes. His hair, as always, looked like he'd just rolled out of bed.

I remember when I first met him. The first time I'd seen him draw that black sword of his, I'd almost laughed. The way he called it "Stygian iron," all serious-like, and the way he said he was destined to help me—he'd looked ridiculous. This scrawny white boy was no fighter. I certainly hadn't believed we were related.

I had to change my mind about that quickly.

Percy frowned. "I—I know you."

Nico raised his eyebrows. "Do you?" He looked to me for an explanation.

I hesitated. Something about my brother's reaction wasn't right. He was trying hard to act casual, but when he had first seen Percy, I had noticed his momentary look of panic. Nico already knew Percy. I was sure of it. Why was he pretending otherwise?

I forced myself to speak. "Um… Percy's lost his memory." I told my brother what had happened since Percy had arrived at the gates.

"So, Nico…" I continued carefully, "I thought… you know, you travel all over. Maybe you've met demigods like Percy before, or…"

Nico's expression turned as dark as Tartarus. I didn't understand why, but I got the message: _Drop it._

"This story about Gaea's army," Nico said. "You warned Reyna?"

Percy nodded. "Gaea—she's the earth goddess right?"

My mouth went dry. Just hearing that name… it was all I could do to keep her knees from buckling. I remember a woman's soft sleepy voice, a glowing cave, and feeling my lungs with black oil.

"Yeah, she is," Nico glanced at the ground as if it might be listening. "The oldest goddess of all. She's in a deep sleep most of the time, but she hates the gods and their children. She's very evil. She convinced her son, the Titan Kronos—um, I mean, Saturn—to kill his dad, Uranus, and take over the world. The Titans ruled for a long time."

"But then Saturn's children, the Olympian gods, over threw them." Percy started rubbing his eyes like he did at the _principia_. I was worried that he might kneel over from the pain like he did there. "And she got mad when the gods took over."

Nico nodded. "And took a new husband—Tartarus, the spirit of the abyss—and gave birth to a race of giants. They tried to destroy Mount Olympus, but the gods finally beat them. At least… the first time."

"The first time?" I repeated.

Nico glanced at me. He probably wasn't meaning to make me feel guilty, but I couldn't help it. If Percy knew the truth about me, and the horrible things she'd done…

"Last summer," Nico continued, "Saturn tried to make a comeback. There was a second Titan war. The Romans at Camp Jupiter stormed his headquarters on Mount Othyrs, across the bay, and destroyed his throne. Saturn  
disappeared—" He hesitated, watching Percy's face. I got the feeling my brother was nervous that more of Percy's memory might come back.

"Um, anyway," Nico continued. "Saturn probably faded back to the abyss. We all thought the war was over. Now it looks like the Titans' defeat stirred up Gaea. She's starting to wake. I've heard reports of the giants being reborn. If they mean to challenge the gods again, they'll probably start by destroying the demigods…"

"I take it you told Reyna?" Percy asked.

"Of course." Nico's jaw tensed. "The Romans don't trust me. That's why I was hoping she'd listen to you. Children of Pluto… well, no offense, but they think we're even worse than children of Neptune. We're bad luck."

"They let Hazel stay here," Percy noted.

"Hazel is different, plus times has changed for us in _some ways_ ," Nico said. "We have another sister: Bianca, for instance. She had joined Lady Diane and her hunters…"

Nico stopped as if worried that this time he might be pushing it.

I never met Bianca, but I'm always amazed whenever I heard that she joined the Hunters. If it wasn't for the _not fall in love part_ , I would consider it.

"Percy," I said. "look, the giants aren't the worst problem. Even… even _Gaea_ isn't the worst problem. The thing you noticed about the gorgons, how they wouldn't die, _that's_ our biggest worry." I looked at Nico. I was dangerously close to revealing my own secret now, but I found myself trusting him. Maybe because he was also an outsider, maybe because he'd saved Frank at the river. He deserved to know what they were facing.

"Nico and I," I said carefully, "we think that what's happening is… Death isn't—"

Before I could finish, a shout came from down the hill.

Frank jogged toward us, wearing his jeans, a purple camp shirt, and denim jacket. His hands were covered with grease from cleaning weapons.

My heart started performing a little skip-beat tap-dance as it always does when I saw Frank—which _really_ irritated me. Sure, he was a good friend—one of the only people at camp who didn't treat me as if I had a contagious disease. But I didn't like him in _that_ way.

He was three years older than me, and he wasn't exactly Prince Charming, with that strange combination of baby face and bulky wrestler's body. He looked like a cuddly koala bear with muscles. The fact that everyone always tried to pair us up— _the two biggest losers at camp! You guys are perfect for each other_ —just made me more determined not to like him.

But my heart wasn't with the program. It went nuts whenever Frank was around. I haven't felt like that since… well, since Sammy.

Stop it, I thought. You're here for one reason—and it isn't to get a new boyfriend.

Besides Frank didn't know my secret. If he knew, he wouldn't be so nice to me.

He reached the shrine. "Hey, Nico. Just you today?"

"Frank." Nico smiled. He seemed to find Frank amusing, maybe because Frank was the only one at camp who wasn't uneasy around children of Pluto and always asking if Bianca would come to visit so we can finally meet her. In fact, Frank was the only ones who would believe that Bianca was a hunter. Although I don't know why Reyna believed since she

"Anyways, Reyna sent me to get Percy," Frank said. "Did Octavian accept you?"

"Yeah," I said. "He slaughter my panda though."

"He… Oh. The augury? Yeah, teddy bears must have nightmares about that guy. But you're in! We need to get you cleaned up before evening muster."

I realized that the sun was getting low over the hills. How had the day gone so fast? "You're right," I said. "We better—"

"Frank," Nico interrupted, "why don't you take Percy down? Hazel and I will be along soon."

Uh-oh, I thought. I tried not to look anxious.

"That's—that's a good idea," I managed. "Go ahead, guys. We'll catch up."

Percy looked at Nico one more time, as though he was still trying to place a memory. "I'd like to talk with some more. I can't shake the feeling—"

"Sure," Nico agreed. "Later. I'll be staying overnight."

"You will?" I blurted. The campers were going to love that—the son of Neptune and the son of Pluto arriving on the same day. Now all we needed was some black cats and broken mirrors.

"Go on, Percy," Nico said. "Settle in." He turned to me, and I got the sense that the worst part of my day was yet to come. "My sister and I need to talk."

…

"You know him, don't you," I said.

We sat on the roof of Pluto's shrine, which was covered with bones and diamonds. As far as I knew, the bones had always been there. The diamonds were my fault. If I sat anywhere too long, or just got anxious, they started popping up all around me like mushrooms after a rain. Several million dollars' worth of stones glittered the roof, but fortunately the other campers wouldn't touch them. They knew better than to steal from temples—especially Pluto's—and the fauns never came up here.

I shuddered, remembering my close call with Don that morning. If I hadn't moved quickly and snatched that diamond off the road… I didn't want to think about it. I didn't need another death on my conscience.

Nico swung his feet like a little kid. His Stygian iron sword lay by his side, next to my _spatha_. He gazed across the valley, where the construction crews were working in the Fields of Mars, building fortification for tonight's games.

"Percy Jackson." He said the name like an incantation. "Hazel, I have to be careful what I say. Important things are at work here. Some secrets need to stay secret. You of all people—you should understand that."

My cheeks felt hot. How can I forget? It was the main reason I haven't met my sister Bianca. According to Nico, she has no clue what he did for me.

"But he's not like… like me?"

"No," Nico said. "I'm sorry I can't tell you more. I can't interfere. Percy has to find his own way at this camp."

"Is he dangerous?" I asked.

Nico managed a dry smile. "Very. To his enemies. But he's not a threat to Camp Jupiter. You can trust him."

"Like I can trust you," I said.

Nico twisted his skull ring. Around him, bones began to quiver as if they were trying to form a new skeleton. Whenever he got moody, Nico had that effect on the dead, kind of like my curse. Between the two of us, we represented Pluto's two spheres of control: death and riches. From what I heard Bianca got powers over the dead too, but she mostly use her powers over shadows that she and Nico inherit. I sometimes wonder if I could travel in the shadows like Nico and Bianca, but considering I have enough trouble with the rumors in Camp, I turn down the chance of learning how.

"Look, I know this is hard," Nico said. "But you have a second chance. You can make things right."

"Nothing about this is right," I said. "If they find out the truth about me—"

"They won't. And it wouldn't matter. You were destined to be given this second chance," Nico said. "They'll call a quest soon. They have to. You'll make me proud, and if things work out, when the time comes, you'll get to meet Bianca."

"Then it's true about Death?" I asked. "Is Alcyoneus to blame?"

"I think so," Nico said. "It's getting bad in the Underworld. Dad's going crazy trying to keep things under control. From what Percy said about the gorgons, things are getting worse up here, too. But look, that's why you're here. All that stuff in your past—you can make something _good_ come out of it. You belong at Camp Jupiter."

That sounded so ridiculous, I wanted to laugh. I didn't belong in this place. I didn't even belong in this century.

I should have known better than to focus on the past, but I remembered the day when my old life had been shattered. The blackout hit me so suddenly, I didn't even have time to say, _Uh-oh_. I shifted back into time. Not a dream or a vision. The memory washed over me with such perfect clarity, I felt I was actually there.

My most recent birthday. I just turned thirteen. But not _last_ December—December 17, 1941, the last day I lived in New Orleans.


	6. Hazel's POV Part II

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N:** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story. Because I KNOW I warn all of you about the first chapter before it started.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **Hazel's POV Part II**

I was walking home alone from the riding stables. Despite the cold evening, I was buzzing with warmth. Sammy just kissed me on the cheek.

The day had been full of ups and downs. Kids at school teased me about my mother, calling me a witch and a lot of other names. That had been going on for a long time, of course, but it was getting worse. Rumors were spreading about my curse. The school was called St. Agnes Academy for Colored Children and Indians, a name that hadn't changed in a hundred years. Just like its name, the place masked a whole lot of cruelty under a thin veneer of kindness.

I didn't understand how other black kids could be so mean. They should've known better, since they themselves had to put up with name-calling all the time. But they yelled at me and stole my lunch, always asking for famous jewels: "Where's those cursed diamonds, girl? Gimme some or I'll hurt you!" They pushed me away at the water fountain, and threw rocks at me if I tried to approach them on the playground.

Despite how horrible they were; I never gave them diamonds or gold. I don't hate anyone _that_ much. Besides, I had one friend—Sammy—and that was enough.

Sammy liked to joke that he was perfect St. Agnes student. He was Mexican American, so he considered himself colored _and_ Indian. "They should give me a _double_ scholarship," he said.

He wasn't big or strong, but he had a crazy smile and he made me laugh.

That afternoon he'd taken me to the stables where he worked as a groom. It was a "whites only" riding club, of course, but it was closed on weekdays, and with the war on, there was talk that the club might have to shut down completely until the Japanese were whipped and the soldiers came back home. Sammy would sneak me in to help take care of the horses. We will even go riding once in a while.

I loved horses. They seemed to be the only living things that weren't scared of me. People hate me. Cats hissed. Dogs growled. Even the stupid hamster in Miss Finley's classroom squeaked in terror when I tried to feed it carrots. But horses don't mind me at all. When I was in the saddle, I could ride so fast that there was no chance of gemstones cropping up in my wake. I almost felt free of my curse.

That afternoon, I'd taken out a tan roan stallion with a gorgeous black mane. I galloped into the fields so swiftly, I left Sammy behind me. By time he caught up to me, both him and his horse were winded.

"What are you running from?" He laughed. "I'm not _that_ ugly, am I?"

It was too cold for a picnic, but we had one anyway, sitting under a magnolia tree with the horses tethered to a split-rail fence. Sammy brought me a cupcake with a birthday candle, which had gotten smashed on the ride but was still the sweetest thing I have ever seen. We broke it in half and shared it.

Sammy started talking about the war and how he wished he was old enough to go. He asked me if I would write letters to him if he was a soldier going overseas.

"'Course, dummy," I said.

He grinned. Then, as if moved by a sudden impulse, he lurched forward and kissed me on the cheek. "Happy birthday, Hazel."

It wasn't much. Just one kiss, and not even on the lips. But I felt like I was floating. I hardly remember the ride back to the stables, or telling Sammy good-bye. He said, see you tomorrow," like he always did. But that was the last time I'll see him, ever again.

By the time I got back to the French Quarter, it was getting dark. As I approached home, my warm feeling was replaced by dread.

My mother—Queen Marie, she liked to called—and I lived in an old apartment above a jazz club. Despite our country being in war, there was a festive mood in the air. New recruits would roam the streets, laughing and talking about fighting the Japanese and getting back at them for bombing Pearl Harbor ten days ago. They were also talking about getting tattoos in the parlors or propose to their sweethearts right on the sidewalk. Some would go upstairs to my mother to have their fortunes read or buy charms from Marie Levesque, the famous _gris-gris_ queen.

"Did you hear?" one would say. "Two bits of this good-luck charm. I took it to a guy I know, and he says it's a real silver nugget. Worth twenty dollars! That voodoo woman is crazy!"

For a while, that kind of talk brought Queen Marie a lot of business. My curse started out slowly. At first it seemed like a blessing. The precious stones and gold only appeared once in a while, never in huge quantities. Queen Marie paid her bills. We ate steak for dinner once a week. I even got a new dress. But then stories started spreading. The locals began to realize how many horrible things happened to people who bought those good-luck charms or got paid with Queen Marie's treasure. Charlie Gasceaux lost his arm in a harvester while wearing a gold bracelet. Mr. Henry at the general store dropped dead from a heart attack after Queen Marie settled her tab with a ruby.

Folks started whispering about me—how I could find cursed jewels just by walking down the street. These days only out-of-towners came to visit my mother, and not so many of them, either. Cause of it, my mom had become short-tempered and would often give me resentful looks.

I climbed the stairs as quietly as I could, in case my mother had a customer. In the club downstairs, the band was tuning their instruments. The bakery next door had started making beignets for tomorrow morning, filling the stairwell with the smell of melting butter.

When I got to the top, I thought I heard two voices inside the apartment. But when I peeked into the parlor, my mother was sitting alone at the séance table, her eyes closed as if in a trance.

I had seen her that way many times, pretending to talk to spirits for her clients—but not ever when she was by herself. Queen Marie had always told me her _gris-gris_ was "bunk and hokum." She didn't really believe in charms or fortune telling or ghost. She was just a performer, like a singer or an actress, doing a show for money.

But I knew my mother _did_ believe in some magic. My curse wasn't hokum. Queen Marie just didn't want to think it was my fault—that somehow she had made me the way I was.

"It was your father," Marie would grumbled in her darker moods. "Coming here in his fancy silver-and-black suit. The one time I _actually_ summoned a spirit, and what do I get? Fulfills my wish and ruins my life. I should've been a _real_ queen. It's _his_ fault you turned out this way."

She would never explain what she meant, and I long learned not to ask about my dad. It just made my mom angrier.

As I watched, Queen Marie muttered something to herself. Her face was calm and relaxed. I was struck by how beautiful she looked, without her scowl and the creases of her brow. She had a lush mane of gold-brown hair like mine, and the same dark complexion, brown as a roasted coffee bean. She wasn't wearing the fancy saffron robes or gold bangles she wore to impress clients—just a simple white dress. Still, she had a regal air, sitting straight and dignified in her gilded chair as if she really were a queen.

"You'll be safe there," she murmured. "Far from the other gods."

I stifled a scream. The voice coming from my mother's mouth wasn't _hers_. It sounded like an older woman's. The tone was soft and soothing, but also commanding—like a hypnotist giving orders.

Queen Marie tensed. She grimaced in her trance, then spoke in her normal voice: "It's too far. Too cold. Too dangerous. He told me not to."

The other voice responded: "What has he ever done for you? He gave you a poisoned child! But we can use her gift for good. We can strike back at the gods. You will be under my protection in the north, far from the gods' domain. I'll make my son your protector. You'll live like a queen at last."

Queen Marie winced. "But what about Hazel…"

Then her face contorted in a sneer. Both voices spoke in unison, as if they'd found something they agreed on: "A poisoned child."

I fled down the stairs, my pulse racing.

At the bottom, I ran into a man in a dark suit. He gripped my shoulders with strong, cold fingers.

"Easy, child," the man said.

I noticed the silver skull ring on his finger, then the strange fabric of his suit. In the shadows, the solid black wool seemed to shift and boil, forming images of faces in agony, as if lost souls were trying to escape from the folds of his clothes.

His tie was black with platinum stripes. His shirt was tombstone gray. His face—my heart nearly leaped out of my throat. His skin was so white it almost looked blue, like cold milk. He had a flap of greasy black hair. His smile was kind enough, but his eyes were fiery and angry, full of mad power. I had seen that look in the newsreel at the movie theater. This man looked like that awful Adolf Hitler. He had no mustache, but otherwise he could've been Hitler's twin—or his father.

I tried to pull away. Even when the man let go, I couldn't move. His eyes froze me in place.

"Hazel Levesque," he said in a melancholy voice. "You've grown."

I started to tremble. At the base of the stairs, the cement stoop cracked under the man's feet. A glittering stone popped up from the concrete like the earth had spit out a watermelon seed. The man looked at it, unsurprised. He bent down.

"Don't!" I cried. "It's cursed!"

The man picked up the stone—a perfectly formed emerald. "Yes, it is. But not to me. So beautiful… worth more than this building, I imagine." He slipped the emerald in his pocket. "I'm sorry for your fate, child. I imagine you hate me."

I didn't understand what he said. The man sounded sad, as if he were personally responsible for my life. Then the truth hit me: a spirit in silver and black, who'd fulfilled my mother's wishes and ruined our lives.

My eyes widened. "You? You're my…"

He cupped his hand under my chin. "I am Pluto. Life is never easy for my children, but you have a special burden. Now that you're thirteen, we must make provisions—"

I pushed his hand away.

"You _did_ this to me?" I demanded. "You cursed me and my mother? You left us alone?"

My eyes stung with tears. This rich white man in a fine suit was my _father_? Now that I was thirteen, he showed up for the first time and said he was sorry?

"You're evil!" I shouted. "You ruined our lives!"

Pluto narrowed his eyes at me, but I got the feeling it wasn't toward me exactly he was angry. "What has your mother told you, Hazel? Has she never explained her wish? Or told you why you were born under a cursed?"

I was too angry to speak, but Pluto seemed to read the answers in my face.

"No…" he sighed. "I supposed she wouldn't. Much easier to blame me."

"What do you mean?"

Pluto sighed. "Poor child. You were born too soon. I cannot see your future clearly, but someday you will find your place. A descendant of Neptune will wash away your curse and give you peace as you become one of the greatest heroes—a fate almost unheard of when it comes to my children. I fear, though, that is not for many years…"

I didn't follow any of that. Before I could respond, Pluto held out his hand. A sketchpad and a box of colored pencils appeared in his palm.

"I understand you enjoy art and horseback riding," he said. "These are for your art. As for the horse…" His eyes gleamed. "That, you'll have to manage yourself. Now I must speak with your mother. Happy birthday, Hazel."

He turned and headed up the stairs—just like that, as if he checked me off his "to do" list and had already forgotten me. _Happy birthday. Go draw a picture. See you in another thirteen years._

I was so stunned, so angry, so upside-down confused that I just stood paralyzed at the base of the steps. I wanted to throw down the colored pencils and stomp on them. I wanted to charge after Pluto and kicked him. I wanted to run away, find Sammy, steal a horse, and leave town and never come back. But I didn't do any of those things.

Above me, the apartment door opened, and Pluto stepped inside.

I was still shivering from his cold touch, but I crept up the stairs to see what he would do. What would he say to Queen Marie? Who would speak back—my mother, or that awful voice?

When I reached the doorway, I heard arguing. I peaked in. My mother seemed back to normal—screaming and angry, throwing things around the parlor while Pluto tried to reason with her.

"Marie, it's insanity," he said. "You'll be far beyond my power to protect you."

"Protect me?" Queen Marie yelled. "When have you _ever_ protected me?"

Pluto's dark suit shimmered, as if the souls trapped in the fabric were getting agitated.

"You have no idea," he said. "I've kept you alive, you and the child. My enemies are everywhere among the gods and men. Now with the war on, it will only get worse. You _must_ stay where I can—"

"The police think I'm a murderer!" Queen Marie shouted. "My clients want to hang me as a witch! And Hazel—her curse is getting worse. Your _protection_ is killing us."

Pluto spread his hands in a pleading gesture. "Marie, please—"

"No!" Queen Marie turned to closet, pulled out a leather valise, and threw it on the table. "We're leaving," she announced. "You can keep your protection. We're going north."

"Marie, it's a trap," Pluto warned. "Whoever's whispering in your ear, whoever's turning you against me—"

" _You_ turned me against you!" She picked up a porcelain vase and threw it at him. It shattered on the floor, and precious stones spilled everywhere—emeralds, rubies, diamonds. My entire collection.

"You won't survive," Pluto said. "If you go north, you'll both die. I can foresee that clearly."

"Get out!" she said.

I wished Pluto would stay and argue. Whatever my mother was talking about, I didn't like it, but my father slashed his hand across the air and dissolved into shadows… like he really _was_ a spirit.

Queen Marie closed her eyes. She took a deep breath. I was afraid the strange voice might possess her again. But when she spoke, she was her regular self.

"Hazel," she snapped. "come out from behind that door."

Trembling, I obeyed as I clutched the sketchpad and colored pencils to my chest. As mad as I was angry at Pluto before, to hear him go into lengths to stop us from going to—wherever my mother was planning to send us—it showed to me that he did care enough to try and stop it. Good enough reason for me to accept his gifts at least.

My mother studied me like I was a bitter disappointment. _A poisoned child_ , the voices had said.

"Pack a bag," she ordered. "We're moving."

"Wh-where?" I asked.

"Alaska," Queen Marie answered. "You're going to make yourself useful. We're going to start a new life."

The way my mother said that, it sounded as if we were going to create a "new life" for someone else—or _something_ else.

'What did Pluto mean?" I asked. "Is he really my father? He said you made a wish—"

"Go to your room!" my mother shouted. "Pack!"

I fled, and suddenly I was ripped out of the past.

…

Nico was shaking my shoulders. "You did it again."

I blinked. We were still sitting on the roof of Pluto's shrine. The sun was lower in the sky. More diamonds had surfaced around me, and my eyes stung from crying.

"S-sorry," I murmured.

"Don't be," Nico said. "Where were you?"

"My mother's apartment. The day we moved."

Nico nodded. He understood my history better than most people could—except maybe Bianca if she knew about me. Both Nico and Bianca were kids from the 1940s. Nico was born only few years after me, Bianca almost a year after me. Both were locked away in a magic hotel for decades. But my past was much worse than Nico's and Bianca's. I caused so much damage and misery.

"You have to work on controlling those memories," Nico warned. "If a flashback like that happens when you're in combat—"

"I know," I said. "I'm trying."

Nico squeezed my hand. "It's okay. I think it's a side effect from… you know, your time in the Underworld. Hopefully it'll get easier."

I wasn't so sure. After eight months, the blackouts seemed to be getting worse, as if my soul were attempting to live in two different time periods at once. No one had ever come back from the dead before—at least, not the way _I_ did. Nico promised me it was meant to be, but sometimes I question it.

"I can't go north again," I said. "Nico, if I have to back to where it happened—"

"You'll be fine," he promised. "You'll have friends this time. Percy Jackson—he's got a roll to play in this. You can sense that, can't you? He's a good person to have on your side."

I remembered what Pluto told me long ago: _A descendant of Neptune will wash away your curse and give you peace as you become one of the greatest heroes—a fate almost unheard of when it comes to my children._

Was Percy the one? Maybe, but I sensed it wouldn't be so easy. I wasn't even sure Percy could survive what was waiting north. Plus there was something else.

"Nico… Percy mention being one of the seven greatest heroes of our—I mean his generation. Pluto mention the same thing about me," Hazel said, "Percy thinks his prediction has something to do with the Prophecy of Seven—"

"And you're wondering if that means you'll be part of it?" Nico asked.

I nodded.

"I wouldn't be surprise f this is all connected to the prophecy," Nico said. "But right now I think we should focus on you surviving the quest coming up."

Horns blew across the river. The legionnaires were gathering for the evening muster.

"We better get down there," Nico said. "I have a feeling tonight's war games are going to be interesting."


	7. Hazel's POV Part III

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N:** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story. Because I KNOW I warn all of you about the first chapter before it started.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **Hazel's POV Part III**

On the way back, I tripped over a gold bar.

I should have known better to run so fast, but I was afraid of being late for the muster. The Fifth Cohort had the nicest centurions in camp. But even _they_ would have to punish me if I was tardy. Roman punishments were harsh: scrubbing the streets with a toothbrush, cleaning the bull pens at the coliseum, getting sewn inside a sack full of angry weasels and dumped into the Little Tiber—the options were not great.

The gold bar popped out of the ground just in time for my foot to hit it. Nico tried to catch me, but I took a spill and scraped my hands.

"You okay?" Nico knelt next to me and reached for the bar of gold.

"Don't!" I warned.

Nico froze. It wasn't the first time Nico tried to grab a precious mineral that appears when I'm around and it wasn't the first time I stopped him.

"Right. Sorry. It's just… jeez. That thing is _huge_." He pulled a flask of nectar from his aviator jacket and poured a little on my hands. Immediately the cuts started to heal. "Can you stand?"

He helped me up. We both stared at the gold. It was the size of a bread loaf, stamped with a serial number and the words u.s. treasury.

Nico shook his head. "How in Tartarus—?"

"I don't know," Hazel said miserably. "It could've been buried there by robbers or dropped off a wagon a hundred years ago. Maybe it migrated from the nearest bank vault. Whatever in the ground, anywhere close to me—it just pops up. And the more valuable it is—"

"The more dangerous it is." Nico frowned. "Should we cover it up? If the fauns find it…"

I imagined a mushroom cloud billowing up from the road, char boiled fauns tossed in every direction. It was too horrible to consider. "It _should_ sink back underground after I leave, eventually, but just to be sure…"

I had been practicing this in order to deal with times like this, but I never done it with something so heavy and dense. I pointed at the god and tried to concentrate.

The gold levitated. I channeled my anger, which wasn't hard.

Nico once warned me that children of Pluto has a fatal flaw—a flaw in our personality that affects whether or not we will be the greatest heroes or greatest threats—of holding grudges. He also told me if you look back at any of our siblings that caused Olympus great trouble and their history, you find most of their causes were due to some sort of grudge.

At first I found it hard to believe it was the same for me as I hardly found a person I had a grudge against—at least out of the mortals and fellow campers, but I have found a way to channel all my anger on my stupid curse into precious metals.

Anyways, I channel my hatred at the gold, at my curse, and about my past and the ways I failed. My fingers tingled. The gold bar glowed with heat.

Nico gulped. "Um, Hazel, are you sure…?"

I made a fist. The gold bent like putty. I forced it to twist into a giant, lumpy ring. Then I flicked my hand toward the ground. My million-dollar doughnut slammed into the earth. It sank so deep, nothing was left but a scar of fresh dirt.

Nico's eyes widened. "That was… terrifying."

I didn't think it was that impressive compare to the powers of a guy who could reanimated skeletons and bring people back from the dead, but it felt good to surprise _him_ for a change.

Inside the camp, horns blew again. The cohorts would be starting roll call, and I had no desire to be sewn into a sack of weasels.

"Hurry!" I told Nico, and we ran for the gates.

…

The first time I'd seen the legion assemble, I'd been so intimidated, I'd almost slunk back to the barracks to hide. Even after being at camp for nine months, I still found it an impressive sight.

The first four cohorts, each forty kids strong, stood in rows in front of the barracks on either side of the Via Praetoria. The Fifth Cohort assembled at the very end, in front of the _principia_ , since our barracks were tucked in the back corner of the camp next to the stables and the latrines. I had to run right down the middle of the legion to reach my place.

The campers were dressed for war. Their polished chain mail and greaves gleamed over their purple T-shirts and jeans. Swords-and-skull designs decorated their helmets. Even their leather combat boots look ferocious with their iron cleats, great for marching through mud or stomping on faces.

In front of the legionnaires, like a line of giant dominoes, stood their red and gold shields, each the size of a refrigerator door. Every legionnaire carried a harpoonlike spear called a _pilum_ , a _gladius_ , a dagger, and about a hundred pounds of other equipment. If you were out of shape when you came to the legion, you didn't stay that way for long. Just walking around in your armor was a full body workout.

Nico and I jogged down the street as everyone was coming to attention, so our entrance was _really_ obvious. Our footsteps echoed on the stones. I tried to avoid eye contact, but I caught Octavian at the head of the First Cohort smirking at me, looking smug in his plumed centurion's helmet with a dozen medals pinned to his chest.

I was still seething from this blackmail threats earlier. Stupid augur and his gift of prophecy—of all the people to discover my secrets, why did it have to be _him_? I was sure he would have told on her weeks ago, except that he knew my secrets were worth more to him as a leverage.

What's worse was that he somehow knew about Percy's Mark of Achilles. Reyna told us specifically to keep it a secret and yet Octavian is probably itching to tell the whole camp that Percy has a Greek Blessing—something we thought was never seen since the Trojan War.

I ran past Reyna, who was cantering back and forth on her Pegasus Scipio—nickname Skippy because he was the color of peanut butter. The metal dogs Aurum and Argentum trotted at her side. Her purple officer's cape billowed behind her

"Hazel Levesque," she called. "so glad you could join us."

I knew better than to respond. I was missing most of my equipment, but I hurried to my place in line next to Frank and stood at attention. Our lead centurion, a big seventeen-year-old guy name Dakota, was just calling my name—the last one on the roll.

"Present!" I squeaked.

Thank the gods. Technically, I wasn't late.

Nico joined Percy Jackson, who was standing off to one side with a couple of guards. Percy's hair was wet from the baths. He'd put on fresh clothes, and he was standing in attention, as if trying to hide it—as if it wasn't the first time he was about to be introduced to campers. Percy still had his beaded necklace on and his thermos strapped to his belt. I wouldn't be surprise if his pen that transforms into a sword was in his pocket as we speak.

I must admit, now that Percy had his baths, it was clear as day that he wasn't just your average recruit. His body seemed to be built of a combination of an athletic swimmer, a skater dude, and of course someone who spent almost ten years training to fight monsters.

The Lares were the last ones to fall in. Their purple forms flickered as they jockeyed for places. They had an annoying habit of standing halfway inside living people, so that the ranks looked like a blurry photograph, but finally the centurions got them sorted out.

Octavian shouted, "Colors!"

The standard-bearers stepped forward. They wore lion-skin capes and held poles decorated with each cohort's emblems. The last to present his standard was Jacob, the legion's eagle bearer. He held a long pole with absolutely nothing on top. The job was supposed to be a big honor, but Jacob obviously hated it. Even though Reyna insisted on following tradition, every time the eagleless poll was raised I could feel the embarrassment rippling through the legion.

Reyna brought her Pegasus to a halt.

"Romans!" she announced. "You probably heard about the incursion today. Two gorgons were swept into the river by this newcomer, Percy Jackson. Juno herself guided him here, and proclaimed him a son of Neptune."

Percy took out his pen, uncapping it which allowed his sword to grow out. He raised it so all the Romans could see him, which made him look impressive. Many romans murmured about him until Reyna continued.

"He seeks to join the legion," Reyna continued. "What do the auguries say?"

"I have read the entrails!" Octavian announced, as if he'd killed a lion with his bare hands rather than ripping up a stuffed panda pillow. "The auguries are favorable. He is qualified to serve!"

The campers gave a shout: _"Ave!"_ Which means: _Hail!_

Frank was a little late on his _"ave,"_ so it came out as a high pitched echo. The other legionnaires snickered.

Reyna motion the senior officers forward—one from each cohort. Octavian, as the most senior centurion turned to Percy.

"Recruit," he asked, "do you have credentials? Letters of reference?"

I remember this from my own arrival. A lot of kids brought letters from older demigods in the outside world, adults who were veterans of the camp. Some recruits had rich and famous sponsors. Some were third-generation or fourth generation campers. A good letter could get you a position in the better cohorts, sometimes even special jobs like legion messenger, which made you exempt from the grunt work like digging ditches or conjugating Latin Verbs.

At this point, Percy shifted. "Letters? No."

 _Unfair!_ I wanted to shout. Percy had carried the goddess into camp. What better recommendation could you want.

But Octavian's family had been sending kids to camp for over a century. He loved reminding recruits that they were less important than he was.

At this point Nico showed off by taking his sword and try to slash at Percy. Percy instinctively took out his sword and blocked it with his own. Nico gave a few more moves, which Percy kept blocking until finally Percy struck the handle of Nico's handle twisted, and caused the Stygian Iron sword to drop to the ground.

At first everyone watched in confusion. But I knew what Nico just did. He just displayed what Percy can do.

"Obviously the son of Neptune is a descent sword fighter," Nico said picking up his sword and sheathing it. "I recommend Percy take part as Sword fighting instructor until he has learned all the Roman styles of fighting. Wouldn't you say, Reyna?"

It was unheard of for someone outside the legion to recommend someone into a specific job, and no one in the legion trusted Nico, but after that display, even Reyna nodded. "Seems fair enough. Any arguments?"

None of the centurions argued. Octavian was too shock and angry that he couldn't put Percy in his place to even argue.

"Very well," Reyna said, "Octavian, continue."

Octavian quickly caught himself in his rage and said, "Very well. Since Percy don't have letters of recommendation for a cohort, will any Legionnaires take him?"

At this point I thought any Cohorts would want a sword fighter like Percy, but of course, Frank spoke out.

"I will!" Frank stepped forward. "He saved my life!"

Immediately there were shouts of protest from the other cohorts. Mostly because Frank was a _probatio_. But partly because they were now interested in Percy after his display. Reyna raised her hand for quiet and glared at Frank.

"Frank Zhang," she said, "for the second time today, I remind you that you are on _probatio_. Your godly parent has not even claimed you yet. You're not elgible to stand for another camper until your first stripe. In fact, may I remind you all, if it wasn't for Nico di Angelo's display there, Percy wouldn't even be eligible to help teach sword fighting."

Frank looked like he might die of embarrassment, and many legionnaires looked embarrassed themselves.

I decided to step out of line at this point. "What Frank means is that Percy saved _both_ of our lives. I am a full member of the legion, and I believe Percy will continue what Jason left off by bringing back honor to the Fifth Cohort. So I will stand for Percy Jackson."

Frank glanced at me gratefully, but the other campers started to mutter. I was barely eligible. I just got my stripe a few weeks ago, and the 'act of valor' that earned it for me was mostly an accident. Besides, I was a daughter of Pluto, and a member of the disgraced Fifth Cohort. I wasn't doing Percy much of a favor by giving him my support after Nico displaying how good Percy was with a sword.

Reyna wrinkled her nose, but she turned to Octavian. The augur smiled and shrugged, like the idea of a _decent_ swordsman—as Nico put it—trying to bring honor back to the Fifth Cohort amused him. I also know it would make Percy less a threat to him.

"Very well," Reyna announced. "Hazel Levesque, you may stand for the new recruit _who_ will be assistant sword fighting instructor. Does your cohort accept him?"

The other cohorts glared at me as if they wanted someone with that skill in their cohorts, but I guess none dared to speak against me without saying something that will get Nico involved after his display.

Frank pounded his shield against the ground. The other members of the Fifth followed his lead, more excited than I ever hear the Fifth Cohort doing so, no matter what was the reason for Percy joining. Our centurions, Dakota and Gwen, exchange looks that normally looked pain, but for once were looks of promise.

"My cohort has spoken," Dakota said. "We accept the recruit and our cohort's assistant sword fighting instructor."

Reyna looked at Percy with pity, like she expected the display Nico put him through would put him in a better cohort. "Congratulations, Percy Jackson. You will stand as probatio and assistant sword fighting instructor of the fifth cohort until the main instructor fines you worthy to be a full time instructor of the lesson. You will be given a tablet with your name, cohort, and position as it would save you from doing grunt work. In one year's time, or as soon as you complete an act of valor, you will become a full member of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata. Serve Rome, obey the rules of the legion, and defend the camp with honor. _Senatus Populusque Romanus!"_

The rest of the legion echoed the cheer.

Reyna wheeled her Pegasus away from Percy. Skippy spread his beautiful wings. I couldn't help feeling a pang of envy. I'd given anything for a horse like that, but it would never happen. Horses were for officers and barbarian cavalry only, not for Roman legionnaires.

"Centurions," Reyna said, "you and your troops have one hour for dinner. Then we will meet on the Field of Mars. The First and Second Cohorts will defend. The Third, Fourth, and Fifth will attack. Good fortune!"

A bigger cheer went up—for the war games and for dinner. The cohorts broke ranks and ran for the mess hall.

I waved at Percy, who made his way through the crowd with Nico at his side. I guess Nico explained about the _display_ because Percy looked grateful despite still not being happy about it. Nico on other hand was beaming at me.

"Good job, Sis," he said. "That took guts standing for him against the other Cohorts."

He never called me _Sis_ before, but it felt good to be called it.

One guard had given Percy his _probatio_ nameplate, which included under it his title of: _Adiutor Gladius Pugnandi Instructor_. Which in Latin means of course: Assistant Sword Fighting instructor. Percy strung it on his leather necklace with the strange beads.

"Thanks, Nico for forcing me into doing that display," Percy said, which sounded like a pathetic excuse of a thank you, but I guess he had no better way to put it. "You too, Hazel, thanks. Um, what exactly does it mean—you're standing for me?"

"I guarantee your good behavior," Hazel explained. "I teach you the rules, answer your questions, make sure you don't disgrace the legion, otherwise I get killed along with you."

"Oh—" Percy looked as if he wished I didn't do that but took it anyways.

"Don't worry about it," I said. "Come on! Let's eat!"

* * *

 **A/N:** For those who might of thought it was stupid of me to have Nico attack Percy out of nowhere to get Percy to display his skills as a swordsman, but I thought that despite Percy's memory being gone he was still a one of the best swordsmen in camp half-blood and _was_ the instructor for sword fighting class that it was only fair I gave him a camp-teaching position involving swords in Camp Jupiter

Also I had Nico called Percy a _decent_ because if most of the camp knew Percy was one of the best, it might lead to questions of where Percy learn how to fight like that. And MAY I REMIND YOU that the only Romans so far who knows about the Mark of Achilles in Camp Jupiter is: Nico, Hazel, Reyna, and Octavian, which I why I had Percy block Nico's blows with his sword instead of showing off his invulnerability.

Plus by having Nico display what he could to gives the Romans more of a reason to be cautious around him, thus giving Percy an opportunity to join the 5th Cohort.


	8. Hazel's POV Part IV

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N:** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story. Because I KNOW I warn all of you about the first chapter before it started.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **Hazel's POV Part IV**

At least the camp food was good. Invisible wind spirits— _aurae_ —waited on the campers and seemed to know exactly what everyone wanted. They blew plates and cups around so quickly, the mess hall looked like a delicious hurricane. If you got up too fast, you were likely to get beaned by beans or potted by pot roast.

I got shrimp gumbo. My favorite comfort food. It made me think about being a little girl in New Orleans before my curse set in and my mom got so bitter. Percy got a cheeseburger and a strange-looking soda that was bright blue. I didn't understand that, but Percy tried it and grinned.

"This makes me happy," he said. "I don't know why… but it does."

Just for a moment, one of the _aurae_ became visible—an elfin girl in a white dress. She giggled as she topped off Percy's glass, then disappeared in a gust.

The mess hall seemed especially noisy tonight. Laughter echoed off the walls. War banners rustled from cedar beams as _aurae_ blew back and forth, keeping everyone's plates full. The campers dined Roman style, sitting on couches around low tables. Kids were constantly getting up and trading places, spreading rumors about who like whom and all the other gossip.

As usual, the Fifth Cohort took the place of _least_ honor. Our tables were at the back of the dining hall next to the kitchen. It wasn't that we were organized to sit in a specific place, it's just no one else wanted to sit with the lamest Cohort in camp.

My table was always the least crowded. Tonight it was Frank, Percy, Nico, our centurion Dakota and me. Usually it's just Frank and me, but tonight Nico joined us and since Percy was with us, Dakota must have felt obligated to welcome him.

Every once in a while though, someone from the other Cohorts—mostly girls—would come over and invite Percy to their table. I guess he really made a first impression because it was unheard of—at least as far as I know of—for a camper from a different Cohort to invite someone from the Fifth to join them. Some of the girls even asked Percy if he wanted to go on a date after the War Games, which Percy turned down quickly. He never says exactly why, but I got this feeling his heart was set for someone else.

It was a while before Dakota could even say anything to Percy, but he seemed to not mind. He was reclined on his couch, mixing sugar into his drink and chugging it. He was a beefy guy with curly black hair and eyes that didn't quite line up straight, so I felt like the world was leaning whenever I looked at him. He wasn't drinking as much as he usually does but still excessive amount which I took was a somewhat good sign.

"So." He burped, waving his goblet. "Welcome to the Percy, party." He frowned. "Party, Percy. Whatever."

"Thanks," Percy replied with a _I think_ expression, and focus back on Nico. "I was wondering if we could talk, you know… about where I might have seen you before."

"Sure," Nico said a little quickly. "The thing is, I spend most of my time in the Underworld. So unless I met you there somehow—"

I bit my lip trying not to bring up that Percy had the Mark of Achilles, which I was certain you can only get in the River of Styx in the Underworld, but I had to remind myself Reyna ordered the matter a secret. But if Nico knew Percy, surely he would know about the Mark, right?"

Dakota belched. "Ambassador from Pluto, they call him. Reyna's never sure what to do with this guy when he visits. You should have seen her face when he showed up with Hazel, asking Reyna and Jason to take her in. Um, no offense."

"None taken." Nico seemed relieved to change the topic. "Dakota was really helpful, standing for Hazel."

Dakota blushed. "Yeah, well… She seemed like a good kid. Turned out I was right. Last month, when she saved me from, uh, you know."

"Oh, man!" Frank looked up from his fish and chips. "Percy, you should have seen her! That's hos Hazel got her stripe. The unicorns decided to stampede—"

"It was nothing," I said.

"Nothing?" Frank protested. "Dakota would've gotten trampled! You stood right in front of them, shooed them away, saved his hide. I've never seen anything like it."

I bit my lip. I didn't like talking about it, and I felt uncomfortable, the way Frank made me sound like a hero. In truth, I'd been mostly afraid that the unicorns would hurt themselves in their panic. Their horns were precious metal—silver and gold—so I'd managed to turn them aside simply by concentrating, steering the animals by their horns and guiding them back to the stables. It gotten me a full place in the legion, but it also started rumors about my strange powers—rumors that reminded me of the bad old days.

Percy studied me with those sea-green eyes.

"You mention before another sister?" Percy asked.

Nico nodded, "Bianca di Angelo: my full-blood sister, and Hazel's half-sister."

"Bianca's and Nico's mom manage to catch Pluto's attention twice," Dakota belched. "It's rare, but it does happen."

"How though?" Percy asked.

"My mom was a daughter of an ambassador to Italy," Nico explained. "She died during one of her visits in the U.S. Bianca looked after me for a long time before she joined the Hunters of Diane. After that I found my way to the Underworld where our father looked after me."

That wasn't the full truth. Nico never told me what really happened, as it pained him to bring it up, but what he told me that his mom was killed by Jupiter in attempt to kill him and Bianca seeing them as a threat and if it wasn't for Pluto both of them would be dead.

"So then how did you two find each other?" Percy asked.

"I found Hazel in New Orleans during one of my travels," Nico put it simply. ", so when I found out she was my half-sister, I decided to help her out."

Again, not the whole truth. Nico let people to think he'd stumble upon her in modern New Orleans and brought her to camp. It was easier than telling the real story.

I tried to pass myself off as a modern kid. It wasn't easy, but thankfully demigods didn't use a lot of technology at camp. Our powers tended to make electronics go haywire. But the first time I went on furlough to Berkeley, I nearly had a stroke when I first saw televisions, computer, iPods, the Internet. It made me glad to be back in the world of ghost, unicorns, and gods. That seemed _much_ less of a fantasy than the twenty-first century.

Nico was still talking about children of Pluto and how Bianca joined the Hunters to make a difference for us. I swear every time he talks about Bianca there was a hint of proudness, as if he was proud to be the brother of someone who started the trend of making a difference for all of Pluto's children, even if it means leaving him with our father. I expected Percy to argue that it sounded ridiculous—as most did—but he nodded like it sounded familiar and he wanted to hear more.

"That's if you believed it," Dakota added in. "I can believe it if Bianca is anything like Hazel personality wise, but others—not so much. Especially with the rumors going around."

"Rumors?" I asked.

From across the room, Don the faun yelled, "Hazel!"

I'd never been so glad to see the faun. He wasn't allowed in camp, but of course he always managed to get in. He was working his way toward our table, grinning at everybody, sneaking food off plates, and pointing at campers: "Hey! Call me!" A flying pizza smacked him in the head, and he disappeared behind a couch. Then he popped up, still grinning, and made his way over.

"My favorite girl!" He smelled like a wet goat wrapped in old cheese. He leaned over their couches and checked out our food. "Say, new kid, you going to eat that?"

Percy frowned. "Aren't fauns vegetarian?"

"Not the cheeseburger, man! The plate!" He sniffed Percy's hair. "Hey… what's that smell?"

"Don!" I said. "Don't be rude."

"No, man, I just—"

That's when our house god Vitellius shimmered into existence, standing half embedded in Frank's couch. Great, just what we need. "Fauns in the dining hall! What are we coming to? Centurion Dakota, do your duty!"

"I am," Dakota grumbled into his goblet. "I'm having dinner!"

Don was still sniffing around Percy. "Man, you've got an empathy link with a faun!"

Percy leaned away from him. "A what?"

"An empathy link! It's real faint, like somebody's suppressed it, but—"

"I know what!" Nico suddenly stood up. "Hazel, how about we give you and Frank time to get Percy oriented? Dakota and I can visit the praetor's table. Don and Vitellius, you come too. We can discuss strategies for the war games."

"Strategies that will involve us loosing," Dakota muttered, then he turned to Percy, "If you're good as you claim to be, perhaps you'll be the first in the Fifth Cohort to get the Mural Crown since Jason did."

"That's right," Vitellius said trying to pat Percy on the back. If you haven't got a pat on the back by a ghost, I can tell you, it's not really reassuring since the hand goes through you. "I can't wait to see if you can fight as well as you can fend off swords."

"Let's go!" Nico said.

"Could I just eat the silverware first?" Don asked.

"No!" Nico stood and grabbed Don and Vitellius by the ears.

Nobody but Nico could actually touch the Lares. Vitellius sputtered with outrage as he was dragged off to the praetor's table.

"Ow!" Don protested. "Man, watch the 'fro!"

"Come on, Dakota!" Nico called over his shoulder.

The centurion got up reluctantly. He wiped his mouth—uselessly, since it was permanently stained red. "Back soon." He shook all over, like a dog trying to get dry. Then he staggered away, his goblet sloshing.

"What was that about?" Percy asked. "And what's wrong with Dakota?"

Frank sighed. "He's okay. He's a son of Bacchus, the wine god. He's got a drinking problem."

"He's addicted to red Kool-Aid," I explained. "Drinks it with three times the normal sugar, and he's already ADHD—you know, attention deficit/hyperactive. One of these days his head is going to explode."

Percy looked over at the praetor's table. Most of the senior officers were in deep conversation with Reyna. Nico and his two captives, Don and Vitellius, stood on the periphery. Dakota was running back and forth along a line of stacked shields, banging his goblet on them like they were a xylophone.

"ADHD," Percy said. "You don't say."

I tried not to laugh. "Well… most demigods are. Or dyslexic. Or both. Just being a demigod means that our brains are wired differently. Like you—you had trouble reading, and the way you fend off Nico's strikes obviously meant your mind is hardwired for battle—one of the classic signs of a demigod with ADHD."

"Are you guys that way too?" Percy asked.

"I don't know," Hazel admitted. Back in my day, they just called kids like us 'lazy.'"

Percy frowned. "Back in _your_ day?"

I cursed at myself.

Luckily for me Frank spoke up: I wish I was ADHD or dyslexic. All I got is lactose intolerance."

Percy grinned. "Seriously?"

Frank might've been the silliest demigod ever, but I thought he was cute when he pouted. His shoulders slumped. "And I love ice cream, too…"

Percy laughed and I couldn't help but join in. It was good to sit at dinner and actually feel like I was among friends.

"Okay, so tell me," Percy said, "why is it bad to be in the Fifth Cohort? And why did you, Hazel, say I could continue where Jason left off in bringing it back honor?"

"It's complicated," I said. "Aside from being Pluto's kid, I want to ride horses."

"That's why you use a cavalry sword?"

I nodded. "It's stupid, I guess. Wishful thinking. There's only one Pegasus at camp—Reyna's. The unicorns are just kept for medicine, because the shavings off their horns cure poison and stuff. Anyway, Roman fighting is always done on foot. Cavalry… they kind of look down on that. So they look down on me."

"Their loss," Percy said. "What about you, Frank?"

"Archery," he muttered. "They don't like that either, unless you're a child of Apollo. Then you've got an excuse. I hope my dad _is_ Apollo, but I don't know. I can't do poetry very well. And I'm not sure I want to be related to Octavian."

"Can't blame you," Percy said as his eye brows furrowed as if a thought occurred to him. "In fact, I can't help but shake this feeling I know exactly what you mean. But as the saying goes: You can't always pick your family. But still, you're excellent with the bow—the way you pegged those gorgons? I say forget what other people think."

Frank's face turned as red as Dakota's Kool-Aid. "I wish I could. They all think I should be a sword fighter because I'm big and bulky." He looked down at his body, like he couldn't quite believe it was his. "They say I'm too stocky for an archer."

"Well, I say you should try for both," Percy said. "That way you be good in close and long range attacks—have the advantage in both. Heck, since I'm assistant sword instructor, I probably can give you some pointers, and who knows. Maybe once you accomplish doing both, you might get your dad's attention to finally be claimed.

That seemed to lighten Frank's mood. Even I couldn't help but feel motivated by Percy's words. It was as if Percy been motivating demigods for years, knowing what to say even to those that haven't been claimed yet.

In a weird way, it reminded me of how Jason spoke: with such confidence you couldn't help but listen. It was as if Percy been around Jason long enough to know what he could speak exactly how Jason spoke. But does it mean that Percy met Jason before, or was it just a coincidence.

"You ask what I meant before about you carrying on Jason's will to bring back honor to the Fifth Cohort?" I asked. "Well, it actually started way before us—before even Jason."

I pointed to the back wall, where the legion's standard were display. "See the empty pole in the middle?"

"Something important was on it, wasn't it?" Percy asked

I was stunned. "How'd you know?"

Percy shrugged. "Well, I found it weird that you guys will have someone carry an empty staff unless it had something on it that once represents the camp. And from the way you and Reyna were talking earlier, I'm guessing it was lost recently and I'm also guessing since Vitellius kept bringing up how the Fifth Cohort was one of the best, it had something to do with it."

I keep forgetting that Percy was smarter than he looks. You wouldn't think he was the way he asked about the Fauns working, or of the Oracle, but I quickly realize that if you ask him the questions he knows about then his intelligence really shows. Now I realize he's pretty good when it comes to figuring things out as well.

"You're right," I said. "That's exactly what happens.

"So what _was_ it anyway?" Percy asked.

Frank looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "It's the symbol of the whole camp. It's an eagle made out of pure gold. It's supposed to protect us in battle and make our enemies afraid. Each legion's eagle gave it all sorts of power, and ours came from Jupiter himself. Supposedly Julius Caesar nickname our legion 'Fulminata'—armed with lightning—because of what the eagle could do."

"I'm cool with lightning as long as it's not fired at me," Percy said which sounded odd coming from a son of Neptune.

"Yeah, well," Hazel said. "It didn't make us invincible. There were lots of books and movies about legions losing their eagles. The Twelfth lost its eagle the first time way back in ancient days, during the Jewish rebellion. The eagle was so important… well, archeologist have _never_ recovered a single eagle from ancient Rome. Each legion guarded theirs to the last man, because it was charged with the power from the gods. They'd rather hid it or melt it down than surrender it to an enemy. The Twelfth was lucky the first time. We got our eagle back. But the second time…"

"You guys were there?" Percy asked.

Both of us shook their heads.

"I'm almost as new as you." Frank tapped his _probatio_ plate. "Just got here last month. Unlike you though, I wasn't fortune enough to find the one specific job I can do in this camp so I get stuck with grunt work. But everyone's heard the story. It's bad luck even to talk about this. There was this huge expedition to Alaska back in the eighties."

"That prophecy you think you might be part of," I continued, "the one about seven demigods and the Doors of Death. Our senior praetor at the time was Michael Varus, son of Janus."

Percy frowned. "The two headed god of doorways and decisions?"

"The same one," I said. "He was from the Fifth Cohort. Back then the Fifth was the best in camp. He thought it would bring glory to the legion if he could figure out the prophecy and make it come true—save the world from storm and fire and all that. He talked to the augur, and the augur said the answer was in Alaska. But he warned Michael it wasn't time yet. The prophecy wasn't for him."

"But he went anyway," Percy guessed. "What happened?"

Frank lowered his voice. "Long, gruesome story. Almost the entire Fifth Cohort was wiped out. Most of the legion's Imperial gold weapons were lost, along with the eagle. The survivors went crazy or refuse to talk about what happened to them."

 _I_ know, I thought solemnly. But I kept silent.

"Since the eagle was lost," Frank continued, "the camp has been getting weaker. Quest are more dangerous. Monster attack the borders more often. Morale is lower. The last month or so, things have been getting much worse, much faster."

"And the Fifth Cohort took the blame since then and now everyone thinks we're cursed," Percy guessed the rest. "But when you mention Jason earlier, it sounded as if he came close to bringing the Fifth honor."

"That's right," I said.

"I never met him. Before my time," Frank said. "But I hear he was a good leader. He practically grew up in the Fifth Cohort. He didn't care what people thought of us. He started to rebuild our reputation. Then he disappeared. Which put us back at square one."

"But you think I can continue where Jason left off?" Percy asked.

I took from there. "The way you controlled the waters, deflected Nico's moves, and—" I stopped myself before I mention the Mark of Achilles. "Not to mention the way you encourage Frank just a while ago—you sounded exactly how Jason would talk when he gave orders—with so much confidence I couldn't help but listen. It was as if Jason was there with us. It has to be a sign from the gods that you are meant to carry on Jason's will."

Percy blushed slightly. "Well, I don't know about speaking like Jason, and it would be hard for me to carry on his will. But joining the legion is better than being chased through the wilderness by monsters. I've got myself some new friends, so I can see what I can do for the Fifth Cohort."

A horn blew at the end of the hall. The officers at the praetor's table got to their feet—even Dakota, his mouth vampire-red from Kool-Aid.

"The games begin!" Reyna announced. The campers cheered and rushed to collect their equipment from the stacks along the walls.

"So we're the attacking team?" Percy asked over the noise. "Is that good?"

I shrugged. "Good news: we get the elephant. Bad news—"

"Let me guess," said Percy. "The Fifth Cohort always loses."

Frank slapped Percy on the shoulder. "I love this guy. But who knows, you might bring us victory. Come on, new friend. Let's go see if you're as good as everyone thinks you are or if I'm going to chalk up my thirteenth defeat in a row!"

* * *

 **A/N:** For those who haven't figure it out, Percy sounded like Jason because of his time with Thalia. I figured from 'The Lost Hero' (The actual book) that when Piper compared Thalia giving orders to her hunters to when Jason talks, that both speak with so much confidence in their voices.


	9. Frank's POV Part I

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N:** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story. Because I KNOW I warn all of you about the first chapter before it started.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **Frank's POV Part I**

As I marched to the war games, I replayed the day in my mind. I couldn't believe how close I was to death.

That morning on sentry duty, before Percy showed up, I almost told Hazel my secret. The two of us had been standing for hours in the chilly fog, watching the commuter traffic on Highway 24. Hazel had been complaining about the cold.

"I'd give anything to be warm," she said, her teeth chattering. I wish we had a fire." Even with her armor on, she looked great. I liked the way her cinnamon-toasted—color hair curled around the edges of her helmet, and the way her chin dimpled when she frowned. She was tiny compare to me, which made me feel like a big clumsy ox. I wanted to put my arms around her to warm her up, but I'd never do that. She'd probably hit me, and I'll lose the only friend I had in camp.

I could make a really impressive fire, I thought. Of course, it would only burn for a few minutes, and then I'd die…

It always scared me that I would even consider it. Hazel had that effect on me. Whenever she wanted something, I had the irrational urge to provide it. I wanted to be the old-fashioned knight riding to her rescue, which was stupid, as she was way more capable at _everything_ than I was.

I imagined what my grandmother would say: _Fai Zhang_ (the name she called me by) _riding to the rescue? Ha! He'd fall off his horse and break his neck._

Hard to believe it had been only six weeks since I'd left my grandmother's house—six weeks since my mom's funeral.

Everything had happened since then: wolves arriving at my grandmother's door, the journey to Camp Jupiter, the weeks I'd spent in the Fifth Cohort trying not to be a complete failure. Through it all, I'd kept the half-burned piece of firewood wrapped in a cloth in my coat pocket.

 _Keep it close_ , my grandmother had warned. _As long as it is safe, you are safe_.

The problem was that it burns so easily. I remembered the trip south from Vancouver. When the temperature dropped below freezing near Mount Hood, I had brought out the piece of tinder and held it in my hands, imagining how nice it would be to have some fire. Immediately, the cared end blazed with a searing yellow flame. It lit up the night and warmed me to the bone, but I could feel my life slipping away, as if _I_ were being consumed rather than the wood. I'd thrust the flame into a snowbank. For a horrible moment it kept burning. When it finally went out, I got my panic under control. I wrapped the piece of wood and put it back in my coat pocket, determined not to bring it out again. But I couldn't forget it.

It was as though someone had said, "Whatever you do, don't think about that stick bursting into flame!"

So of course, that's all I could think about.

On sentry duty with Hazel, I would try to take my mind off it. I loved spending time with her. I asked her about growing up in New Orleans, but she got edgy at my questions, so we made small talk instead. Just for fun, we even tried to speak French to each other. Hazel had some Creole blood on her mother's side. I had taken French in school. Neither of us were very fluent, and Louisiana French was so different from Canadian French it was almost impossible for us to converse. After I asked Hazel how her beef was feeling today, and she replied that her shoes were green, we decided to give up.

That's when Percy Jackson arrived.

Sure, I seen kids fight monsters before. I'd fought plenty of them myself on my journey from Vancouver. But I'd never seen gorgons. I'd never seen a goddess in person. And the way Percy had walked on water and then controlled the Little Tiber—wow. I wished I had powers like that.

I could still feel the gorgons' claws pressing into my arms and smell their snaky breath—like dead mice and prison. If not for Percy, those grotesque hags would have carried me away. I'd be a pile of bones in the back of a Bargain Mart by now.

After that incident at the river, Reyna had to send me to the armory, which had given me way too much time to think.

While I polished swords, I remember Juno, warning us to unleash Death.

Unfortunately, I had a pretty good idea what the goddess meant. I tried to hide my shock when Juno had appeared, but she looked exactly like my grandmother described—right down to the goatskin cape.

 _She chose your path years ago,_ Grandmother had told me. _And it will not be easy._

I glanced at my bow in the corner of the armory. I'd feel better if Apollo would claim me as a son. I had been _sure_ my godly parent would speak up on my sixteenth birthday, which had passed two weeks ago.

Sixteen was an important milestone for Romans. It had been my first birthday at camp. But nothing had happened. Now I hoped to be claimed on the Feast of Fortuna, though from what Juno had said, we'd be in battle for our lives on that day.

My father _had_ to be Apollo. Archer was the only thing I was good at. Years ago, my mother had told me that our family name, _Zhang_ , meant "master of bows" in Chinese. That must have been a hint about my dad.

I put down my polishing rags. I looked at the ceiling. "Please, Apollo, if you're my dad, tell me. I want to be an archer like you."

"No, you don't," a voice grumbled.

I jumped out of my seat. Vitellius, the Fifth Cohort's Lar, was shimmering behind me. His full name was Gaius Vitellius Reticulus, but the other cohorts called him Vitellius the Ridiculous.

"Hazel sent me to check on you," Vitellius said, hiking up his sword belt. "Good thing, too. Look at the state of this armor!"

Vitellius wasn't one to talk. His toga was baggy, his tunic barely fit over his belly, and his scabbard fell off his belt every three seconds, but I didn't bother pointing that out.

"As for archers," the ghost said. "they're wimps! Back in m day, archer was a job for barbarians. A good Roman should be in the fray, gutting his enemy with spear and sword like a civilized man! That's how we did it in the Punic Wars. Roman up, boy!"

I sighed at that. Vitellius always saying he was in the Caesar army who fought the Punic Wars. Only problem with that was the Punic Wars was a hundred years before Julius Caesar's time. But every time someone tried to correct him, he tries to stab us with his ghostly _gladius_ a few times as if it would hurt us which really doesn't. You think being one of the oldest Lares in camp he knew that. Then again, I am talking about the Lar who boast about fighting the Punic Wars during Julius Caesar's time.

"Now… it was your sixteenth birthday recently, wasn't it?" Vitellius asked.

I nodded. I wasn't sure how Vitellius knew this, since I hadn't told anyone except Hazel, but ghost had ways of finding out secrets. Eavesdropping while invisible was probably one of them.

"So that's why you're such a grumpy gladiator," the Lar said. "Understandable. The sixteenth birthday is your day of manhood! Your godly parent should have claimed you, no doubt about it, even if with only a small omen. Perhaps he thought you were younger. You look younger, you know, with that pudgy baby face."

'Thanks for reminding me," Frank muttered.

"Yes, I remember my sixteenth," Vitellius said happily. "Wonderful omen! A chicken in my underpants."

I choked back. "Excuse me?"

Vitellius puffed up with pride. "That's right! I was at the river changing my clothes for my Liberalia. Rite of passage into manhood, you know. We did things properly back then. I'd taken off my childhood toga and was washing up to don the adult one. Suddenly, a pure-white chicken ran out of nowhere, dove into my loincloth, and ran off with it. I wasn't wearing it at the time."

"That's good," I said, trying to hide my disgust at the image Vitellius just put in my head. "And can I just say: Too much information?"

"Mm," Vitellius wasn't listening. "That was the sign I was descended from Aesculapius, the god of medicine. I took my cognomen, my third name, Reticulus, because it meant _undergarment_ , to remind me of the bless day when the chicken stole my loincloth.

I'm going to regret asking this later—not that I'm not already regretting listening to this story—but I asked, "So… your name means Mr. Underwear?"

"Praise the gods! I became a surgeon in the legion, and the rest is history." He spread his arms generously.

Yep, I'm regretting it and praying to all the gods that when my dad claims me, he won't send an embarrassing omen as Vitellius'. That's the last thing I need was for Camp Jupiter to know me as the guy who lose any of his clothing to an animal.

"Don't give up, boy. Maybe your father is running late. Most omens are not as dramatic as a chicken," Vitellius said. "I knew a fellow who once got a dung beetle—"

"Thanks, Vitellius," I interrupted—not wanting another disturbing thought in my head. "But I have to finish polishing this armor—"

"And the gorgon's blood?"

I froze. I hadn't told anyone about that. As far as I knew, only Percy had seen me pocket the vials at the river, and we haven't talked about it yet.

"Come now," Vitellius chided. "I'm a healer. I know the legends about gorgon's blood. Show me the vials."

Reluctantly, I brought out the two ceramic flask I'd retrieved from the Little Tiber. Spoils of war were often left behind when a monster dissolved—sometimes a tooth, or a weapon, or even the monster's entire head. I had known what the two vials were immediately. By traditions they belonged to Percy, who had killed the gorgons, but I couldn't help thinking, What if I could use them?

"Yes." Vitellius studied the vials approvingly. "Blood taken from the right side of a gorgon's body can cure any disease, even bring the dead back to life. The goddess Minerva once gave a vial of it to my divine ancestor, Aesculapius. But blood taken from the left side of a gorgon—instantly fatal. So, which is which?"

I looked down at the vials. "I don't know. They're identical."

"Ha! But you're hoping that the right vial could solve your problem with the burned stick, eh? Maybe even break your curse?"

I was so stunned, I couldn't talk.

"Oh, don't worry, boy," the ghost chuckled. "I won't tell anyone. I'm a Lar, a protector of the cohort! I wouldn't do anything to endanger you. Trust me, boy! I have sympathy for you, carrying the curse of that Argonaut."

"The… what?"

Vitellius waved away the question. "Don't be modest. You've got Ancient roots. Greek as well as Roman. It's no wonder Juno—" He tilted his head, as if listening to a voice from above. His face went slack. His entire aura flickered green. "But I've said enough! At any rate, I'll let you work out who gets the gorgon's blood. I suppose that newcomer Percy could use it too, with his memory problem."

I wondered what Vitellius had been about to say and what had made him so scared, but I got the feeling that for once Vitellius was going to keep his mouth shut.

I looked down at the two vials. I haven't even thought of Percy needing them. I felt guilty that I'd been intending to use the blood for myself. "Yeah. Of course. He should have it."

"Ah, but if you want my advice…" Vitellius looked up nervously again. "You should both wait on that gorgon blood. If my sources are right, you're going to need it on your quest."

"Quest?"

The doors of the armory flew open.

Reyna stormed in with her metal greyhounds. Vitellius vanished. He might liked chickens, but he did not like the praetor's dogs.

"Frank." Reyna looked troubled. "That's enough with the armor. Go find Hazel. Get Percy Jackson down here. He's been up there too long. I don't want Octavian too…" She hesitated. "Just get Percy down here."

…

So I had to run all the way to Temple Hill. I was surprise to find them at Pluto's temple with Nico di Angelo. The guy creeped me out, but I tried to be a good guy to him for Hazel's good, though I'm scared that one day I'll say something about Nico I'll regret.

Walking back, Percy had asked a tons of questions about Nico, but I didn't know. I just answered how Nico was mysterious and how he made everyone nervous.

"But not you?" Percy asked.

I shrugged, trying to hide my uneasiness of the question. "Pluto's cool. It's not his fault he runs the Underworld. He just got bad luck when the gods were dividing up the world, you know? Jupiter got the sky, Neptune the sea, and Pluto got the shaft."

Percy furrowed his eyebrows. I expected him to ask if death scares me, but instead he said, "But Pluto's job is important still right? I mean it's his job to keep balance in the Underworld. Making sure those that died don't come back to life, right?"

I shrugged. Truth was, I never thought of it that way. "I guess. Back in the old times, like the Greek times, when Pluto was called Hades, he was more of a death god. When he became Roman, he got more… I don't know, respectable. He became the god of wealth, too. Everything under the earth belongs to him. But I never thought of his job over the dead that much."

Percy scratched his head. "How does a god _become_ Roman? Is he's Greek, wouldn't he stay Greek?"

I walked a few steps, thinking about that. Vitellius would've given Percy an hour-long lecture on the subject, probably with a PowerPoint presentation, but I took my best shot. "The way Romans saw it, they adopted the Greek stuff and perfected it."

Percy made a sour face. "Perfected it? Like there was something wrong with it?"

I remember what Vitellius had said: _You've got ancient roots. Greek as well as Roman_. My grandmother had said something similar."

"I don't know," I admitted. "Rome was more successful than Greece. They made this huge empire. The gods became a bigger deal in Roman times—more powerful and widely known. That's why they're still around today. So many civilizations based themselves on Rome. The gods changed to Roman because that's where the center of power was. Jupiter was… well, more respectful as a Roman god than he had been when he was Zeus. Mars became a lot more important and disciplined."

"Really?" Percy said in an interested tone.

"Yeah, as Ares, Mars wasn't much known for his battle strategies, but when the Romans adopted him, he became more of a battle strategist."

Percy froze. "What about Athena?"

"Minerva?"

"Yeah, her! Didn't the Greeks see her as the Goddess of Battle Strategies?"

"Well, I guess so, but the Romans didn't see her much of a battle strategist, but we kept her as the goddess of wisdom, just not the goddess of battle strategies," I replied. "Why the sudden interest in Minerva? Last I check Minerva and Neptune were arch rivals."

"I'm not sure but—" Percy frowned like he was trying to connect the dots of stuff he couldn't remembered. He shook his head and asked, "So you're saying the old Greek gods—they just changed permanently to Roman? There's nothing left of the Greek?"

"Uh…" I looked around to make sure there were no camper or Lares nearby, but the main gates were still a hundred yards away. "That's a sensitive topic. Some people say Greek influence is still around, like it's still a part of the gods' personalities. I've heard stories of demigods occasionally leaving Camp Jupiter. They reject Roman training and try to follow the older Greek style—like being solo heroes instead of working as a team the way the legion does. And back in the ancient days, when Rome fell, the eastern half of the empire survived—the Greek half. It was called Byzantium. The eastern empire lasted another two thousand years, but it was always more Greek than Roman. For those of us who follow the Roman way, it's kind of a sore subject. That's why, whatever country we settle in, Camp Jupiter is always in the west—the _Roman_ part of the territory. The east is considered bad luck."

"Huh." Percy frowned.

I couldn't blame him for feeling confused. The Greek/Roman stuff gave me a headache too.

We reached the gates.

"I'll take you to the baths to get you cleaned up," I said. "But first… about those vials I found at the river."

"Gorgon's blood," Percy said. "One heals. One is deadly poison."

My eyes widened. "You know about that? Listen, I wasn't going to keep them. I just—"

"Don't worry about it." Percy smiled. "I'm guessing you didn't know which one is which, right?"

"Yeah. They're too much alike," I said, "One of them could heal your memory but—"

"Don't worry about it," Percy said. "It's too risky to use them now, so we might as well save them for the upcoming battle."

I just stared at Percy, a little in awe. Percy had a chance to get his memory back, and he was willing to wait in case someone else needed the vial more? Romans were supposed to be unselfish and help their comrades, but I wasn't sure anyone else at camp would have made that choice.

"So you don't remember anything?" Frank asked. "Family, friends?"

Percy fingered the clay beads around his neck. "Only glimpses. Murky stuff. A girlfriend. I thought she'd be at camp." He looked at me carefully as if making a decision. "Her name was Annabeth. You don't know her, do you?"

I shook his head. "I know everybody at camp, but no Annabeth. What about your family? Is your mom mortal?"

"I guess so… she's probably worried out of her mind. Does your mom get to see you much?"

I stopped at the bathhouse entrance. I grabbed some towels from the supply shed. "She died."

"Oh, sorry," Percy said. "How did she died?"

Usually I would lie. I'd say _an accident_ and shut off the conversation. Otherwise my emotions got out of control. I couldn't cry at Camp Jupiter. I couldn't show weakness. But with Percy, I found it easier to talk.

"She died in the war," I said. Afghanistan."

"She was in the military?"

"Canadian. Yeah."

"Canada? I didn't know—"

"Most Americans don't." Frank sighed. "But yeah, Canada has troops there. My mom was a captain. She was one of the first women to die in combat. She saved some soldier who were pinned down by enemy fire. She… she didn't make it. The funeral was right before I came here."

Percy nodded. He didn't ask for more details, which I appreciated. He didn't say he was sorry, or make any of the well-meaning comments I always hated: _Oh, you poor guy. That must be so hard on you. You have my deepest condolences._

In fact, Percy seemed to be subconsciously fingering the last bead on his necklace—the one of some skyscraper and a ring of ancient Greek names. It made me wonder if it was possible Percy lost someone close to him and was trying hard to remember.

"How about you show me the baths now?" Percy suggested. "I'm filthy."

I manage a smile. "Yeah. You kind of are."

As we walked into the steam room, I thought of my grandmother, my mom, and my cursed childhood, thanks to Juno and her piece of firewood. I almost wished I could forget my past, the way Percy had.


	10. Frank's POV Part II

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N:** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story. Because I KNOW I warn all of you about the first chapter before it started.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **Frank's POV Part II**

I don't remember much from the funeral itself.

But what do I remember was the hours leading up to it—my grandmother coming out into the backyard to find me shooting arrows at her porcelain collection.

My grandmother's house was a rambling gray stone mansion on twelve acres in North Vancouver. Her backyard ran straight into Lynn Canyon Park.

The morning was cold and drizzly, but I didn't feel the chill. I wore a black wool suit and a black overcoat that had once belong to my grandfather. I had been startled and upset to find they fit me so well. The clothes smelled like wet mothballs and jasmine. The fabric was itchy but warm. With my bow and quiver, I probably looked like a dangerous butler.

I'd loaded some of my grandmother's porcelain in a wagon and trotted it into the yard, where I set up targets on old fence posts at the edge of the property. I'd been shooting so long; my fingers were starting to lose their feeling. With every arrow, I imagined I was striking down my problems.

Snipers in Afghanistan. _Smash_. A teapot exploded with an arrow through the middle.

The sacrifice medal, a silver disk on a red-and-black ribbon, given for death in the line of duty, presented to me as if it were something important, something that made everything all right. _Thwack_. A teacup spun into the woods.

The officer who came to tell me: "Your mother is a hero. Captain Emily Zhang died trying to save her comrades."

 _Crack_. A blue-and-white plate split into pieces.

My mother's chastisement: _Men do not cry. Especially Zhang men You will endure, Fai._

No one called me Fai except for my grandmother.

 _What sort of name is Frank?_ She would scold. _That is not a Chinese name_.

 _I'm not Chinese_ , I thought, but I didn't dare say that. My mother had told me years ago: _There is no arguing with Grandmother. It'll only make you suffer worse._ She been right. And now I had no one except my grandmother.

 _Thud._ A fourth arrow hit the fence post and stuck there, quivering.

"Fai," said my grandmother.

I turned.

She was clutching a shoebox-sized mahogany chest that I never saw before. With her high-collared black dress and severe bun of gray hair, she looked like a school teacher from the 1800s.

She surveyed the carnage I caused: her porcelain in the wagon, the shards of her favorite tea sets scattered over the lawn, my arrows sticking out of the ground, the trees, the fence posts, and one in the head of a smiling garden gnome.

My first thought was that I was in serious trouble. I was certain my grandmother yell or hit me with the box. I'd never done anything this bad before. I'd never felt so angry.

Grandmother's face was full of bitterness and disapproval. She looked nothing like my mom. I wonder how my mother had turned out to be so nice—always laughing, always gentle. I couldn't imagine my mom growing up with Grandmother any more than I could imagine her on the battlefield—though the two situations probably weren't that different.

I waited for Grandmother to explode. Maybe I'd be grounded and wouldn't have to go to the funeral. I wanted to hurt her for being so mean all the time, for letting my mother go off to war, for scolding me to get over it. All she cared about was her stupid collection.

"Stop this ridiculous behavior," Grandmother said. She didn't sound very irritated. "It is beneath you."

To my astonishment, she kicked aside one of her favorite tea cups.

"The car will be here soon," she said. "We must talk."

I was dumbfounded. Sure Grandmother had told me before that Archery was beneath me, despite what our family name means, but this is the first time she actually kicked aside on of her porcelains.

For a horrible moment, I wondered if it contains my mother's ashes, but that was impossible. Grandmother told me that there would be a military burial. So why was Grandmother holding a box so gingerly, as if its contents grieved her?"

"Come inside," she said. Without waiting to see if I would follow, she turned and marched toward the house. I followed her, scared what might happen.

In the parlor, I sat on a velvet sofa surrounded by vintage family photos (most of the people I don't recognize), porcelain vases that had been too large for my wagon, and red Chinese calligraphy banners that I had no clue what it says (mostly because I never take interest in learning it).

Whenever Grandmother started lecturing me about my ancestry—how they'd come over from China and prospered in the import/export business, eventually becoming one of the wealthiest Chinese families in Vancouver—well, it was too boring for me to follow. I was fourth-generation Canadian. I didn't care about China and all these musty antiques. The only Chinese characters I could recognize was my family name: Zhang. _Master of bows._ That was cool.

Grandmother sat next to me, her posture stiff, her hands folded over the box.

"Your mother wanted you to have this," she said with reluctance. "She kept it since you were a baby. When she went away to the war, she entrusted it to me. But now she is gone. And soon you will be going, too."

My stomach started to flutter. "Going? Where?"

"I am old," Grandmother said, as if that were a surprising announcement. I have my own appointment with Death soon enough. I cannot teach you the skills you will need, and I cannot keep this burden. If something were to happen to it, I would never forgive myself. You would die."

I wasn't sure I heard her right. It sounded like she had said my life depended on that box. I wondered why I'd never seen it before. She must have kept it locked in the attic—the one room I was forbidden to explore. She'd always said she kept her most valuable treasures up there.

She handed me the box. I opened the lid with trembling fingers. Inside, cushioned in velvet lining was the one thing that would later learned that it hasa changed my life forever: a piece of wood.

It looked like driftwood—hard and smooth, sculpted into a wavy shape. It was about the size of a TV remote control. The tip was charred. I touched the burned end. It still felt warm. The ashes left a black smudge on my fingers.

"It's a stick," I said. I couldn't figure out why Grandmother was acting so tense and serious about it.

Her eyes glittered. "Fai, do you know of prophecies? Do you know of the gods?"

The questions made me uncomfortable. I thought about Grandmother's silly gold statues of Chinese immortals, her superstitions about putting furniture in certain places and avoiding unlucky numbers. Prophecies made me think of fortune cookies, which weren't even Chinese—not really—but the bullies at school teased him about stupid stuff like that: _Confucius say_ … all that garbage. I had never even been to China. I wanted nothing to do with it. But of course, Grandmother didn't want to hear that.

"A little Grandmother," I said. "Not much."

"Most would have scoffed at your mother's tale," she said. "But I did not. I know of prophecies and gods. Greek, Roman, Chinese—they're intertwine in our family. I did not question what she told me about your father."

"Wait… what?"

"Your father was a god," she said plainly.

If Grandmother had had a sense of humor, I would have thought she was kidding. But Grandmother never t eased. Was she going senile?

"Stop gaping at me!" she snapped. "My mind is not addled. Haven't you ever wondered why your father never came back?"

"He was…" I faltered. Losing my mother was painful enough. I didn't want to think about my father, too. "He was in the army, like Mom. He went missing in action. In Iraq."

"Bah. He was a god. He fell in love with your mother because she was a natural warrior. She was like me—strong, brave, good, beautiful."

Strong and brace, I could believe. Picturing Grandmother good and beautiful not so much.

I still suspected she might be losing her marbles, but I asked anyways, "What kind of god?"

"Roman," she said. "Beyond that, I don't know. Your mother wouldn't say, or perhaps she didn't know herself. It is no surprise a god would fall in love with her, given our family. He must have known she was of ancient blood."

"Wait… we're Chinese. Why would Roman gods want to date Chinese Canadians?"

Grandmother's nostrils flared and I knew I was going to get another one of her lectures about knowing my family history.

"If you bother to learn the family history, Fai, you might know this. China and Rome are not so different, nor as separate as you might believe. Our family is from the Gansu Province, a town once called Li-Jien. And before that… as I said, ancient blood. The blood of princes and heroes."

I just stared at her.

She sighed in exasperation. "My words are wasted on this young ox! You will learn the truth when you go to camp. Perhaps your father will claim you. But for now, I must explain the firewood."

She pointed at the big stone fireplace. "Shortly after you were born, a visitor appeared at our hearth. Your mother and I sat here on the couch, just where you and I are sitting. You were a tiny thing, swaddled in a blue blanket, and she cradled you in her arms."

Too me, I thought it sounded like a sweet memory. But the way Grandmother told it in a bitter tone, it sounded that even back then she knew that I would turn out to be a big lumbering oaf.

"A woman appeared at the fire," she continued. "She was a white woman—a _gwai poh_ —dressed in blue silk, with s strange cloak in the skin of a goat."

"A goat," I said numbly.

Grandmother scowled. "Yes, clean your ears, Fai Zhang! I'm too old to tell every story twice. The woman with the goatskin was a goddess. I can always tell these things. She smiled at the baby—at you—and she told your mother, in perfect Mandarin, no less: 'He will close the circle. He will return your family to its roots and bring you great honor by coming one of the greatest heroes of all time."

Grandmother snorted. "I do not argue with the goddess, but perhaps this one did not see the future clearly. Whatever the case, she said, 'He will go to camp and restore your reputation there. He will free Thantos from his icy chains—"

"Wait, who?"

"Thantos," Grandmother said impatiently. "The Greek name for Death. Now may I continue without interruptions? The goddess said 'The blood of Pylos is strong in this child from his mother side. He will have the Zhang family gift, but he will also have the powers of his father."

Suddenly my family history didn't seem so boring. I desperately wanted to ask what it all meant—powers, gifts, blood of Pylos. What was this camp, and who was my father? But I didn't want to interrupt Grandmother again. I wanted to her to keep talking.

"No power comes without a price, Fai," she said. "Before the goddess disappeared, she pointed at the fire and said, 'He will be the strongest of your clan, and the greatest. But the Fates have decreed will also be the most vulnerable. he bear the curse of Meleager and his life will burn bright and short. As soon as that piece of tinder is consumed—that stick at the edge of the fire—your son is destined to die."

I could hardly breathe. I looked at the box in my lap, and the smudge of ash on my finger. The story sounded ridiculous, but suddenly the piece of driftwood seemed more sinister, colder and heavier. "This… this—"

"Yes, my thick-headed ox," Grandmother said. "That is the very stick. The goddess disappeared and I snatched the wood from the fire immediately. We have kept it ever since."

"If it burns up, I die?"

"It is not so strange," Grandmother said. "Roman, Chinese—the destinies of men can be often being predicted, and sometimes guarded against, at least for a time. The firewood is in your possession now. Keep it close. As long as it is safe, you are safe."

I shook my head. I wanted to protest that this was just a stupid legend. Maybe Grandmother was trying to scare me as some sort of revenge for breaking her porcelain.

But her eyes were defiant. She seemed to be challenging me: _If you do not believe it, burn it._

I choose not to take any chances at the time and closed the box. "If it's so dangerous, why not seal the wood in something that won't burn, like plastic or steel? Why not put it in a safe deposit box?"

"What would happen," Grandmother wondered as if the thought has occurred to her before. "if we coat the stick in another substance. Would you, too, suffocate? I don't know. Your mother would not take the risk. She couldn't bear to part with it, for fear something would go wrong. Banks can be robbed. Buildings can burn down. Strange things conspire when one tries to cheat fate. Your mother thought the stick was only safe in her possession, until she went to war. Then she gave it to me."

Grandmother exhaled sourly. "Emily was foolish, going to war, though I suppose I always knew it was her destiny. She hoped to meet your father again."

"She thought… she thought he'd be in Afghanistan?"

Grandmother spread her hands, as if this was beyond her understanding. "She went. She died bravely. She thought the family gift would protect her. No doubt that's how she saved those soldiers. But the gift has never kept our family safe. It did not help my father, or his father. It did not help me. And now you have become a man. You must follow the path."

"But… what path? What's our gift—archery?"

"You and your archery! Foolish boy. Soon you will find out. Tonight, after the funeral, you must go south. Your mother said if she did not come back from combat, Lupa would send messengers. They will escort you to a place where the children of the gods can be trained for their destiny."

I felt as if I were being shot with arrows, my heart splitting into porcelain shards. I didn't understand most of what Grandmother said, but one thing was clear: she was kicking me out.

"You just let me go?" I asked. "Your last family?"

Grandmother's mouth quivered. Her eyes looked moist. I was shocked to realize she was near tears. She'd lost her husband years ago, then her daughter, and now she was about to send me, her only grandson, away. But she rose from the couch and stood tall, her posture as stiff and correct as ever.

"When you arrive at camp," she instructed. "you must speak to the praetor in private. Tell her your great-grandfather was Shen Lun. It has been many years since the San Francisco incident. Hopefully they won't kill you for what he did, but you might want to beg for forgiveness for his actions."

"This is sounding better and better," I mumbled.

"The goddess said you would bring our family full circle." Grandmother's voice had no trace of sympathy. "She choose your path years ago, and it will not be easy. But now it is time for the funeral. We have obligations. Come. The car will be waiting."

The ceremony was a blur: solemn faces, the patter of rain on the graveside awning, the crack of rifles from the honor guard, the casket sinking into the earth.

That night, the wolves came. They howled on the front porch. I came out to meet them. I took my travel pack, my warmest clothes, and my bow and quiver. My mother's sacrifice medal was tucked in my pack. The charred stick was wrapped carefully in three layers of cloth in my coat pocket, next to my heart.

My journey south began—to the Wolf House in Sonoma, and eventually to Camp Jupiter, where I spoke to Reyna privately as my Grandmother instructed. I begged for forgiveness for the great-grandfather I knew nothing about. Reyna let me join the legion. She never told me what my great-grandfather had done, but she obviously knew. I could tell it was bad.

"I judge people by their own merits, not by the actions of their family," Reyna told me—which I later came to find was true when I heard how Hazel was accepted to the legion. "But do not mention the name of Shen Lun to anyone else. It must remain our secret, or you'll be treated badly."

I didn't have the credentials to get me out of grunt work but unfortunately it didn't matter. The goddess said I would be one of the greatest hero and yet I didn't have that many merits. My first month at camp was spent knocking over rows of weapons, breaking chariots, and tripping entire cohorts as they marched. My favorite job was caring for Hannibal the elephant, but I even managed to mess that up, too—giving Hannibal indigestion by feeding him peanuts. Who knew elephants could be peanut-intolerant? To top that off I kept speaking out of line when I'm not supposed to as a _probatio_ —which Reyna constantly reminded me about. I figured Reyna was regretting her decision to let me join.

Every day, I woke up wondering if the stick would somehow catch fire and burned, and I would cease to exist.

…

I thought of all of this as I walked with Hazel and Percy to the war games. I thought about the stick wrapped inside my coat pocket, and what it meant that Juno had appeared at camp. Was I about to die? I hoped not. I haven't brought my family any honor yet or became the great hero I was supposed to be—that was for sure. Maybe Apollo would claim me today and explain my powers and gifts.

Once we got out of camp, the Fifth Cohort formed two lines behind our centurions, Dakota and Gwen. We marched north, skirting the edge of the city, and headed to the Field of Mars—the largest, flattest part of the valley. The grass was cropped short by all the unicorns, bulls, and homeless fauns that grazed here. The earth was pitted with explosion craters and scarred with trenches from past games. At the north end of the field stood our target. The engineers had built a stone fortress with an iron portcullis, guard towers, scorpion ballistae, water cannons, and no doubt many other nasty surprises for defenders to use.

"They did a good job today," Hazel noted. "That's bad for us."

"So—Roman demigods built that fortress in a day?" Percy asked.

Hazel grinned. "Legionnaires are trained to build. If we had to, we could break down the entire camp and rebuild it somewhere else. Take maybe three or four days, but we could do it."

Percy whistled in amazement. "So you attack a different fort every night?"

"Not every night," I said. "We have different training exercises. Sometimes death ball—um, which is like paintball, except with… you know, poison and acid and fire balls. Sometimes we do chariot and gladiator competitions, sometimes war games."

Percy furrowed for a bit. "Do you ever have to fight against six giant scorpions for a game?"

Hazel and I stared at Percy like he gone crazy.

"Never mind," Percy said when he saw our expression, "Forget I asked that."

"Anyways—" Hazel said unconvinced. She pointed at the fort. "Somewhere inside, the First and Second Cohorts are keeping their banners. Our job is to get inside and capture them without getting slaughtered. We do that, we win."

Percy's eyes lit up. "Oh, so it's like capture the flag, expect with a well-armed fortress and weapons. Cool!"

I laughed nervously. "Yeah, well the cohort that captures the banner gets all the glory."

"Makes sense," Percy said trying to keep time with the left-right marching rhythm. I had to sympathized with the guy. I'd spent my first two weeks falling down. Still, Percy was doing better than I thought he would. "So I'm guessing this is about teamwork?"

"And quick thinking, tactics, and battle skills," Hazel said. "You'd be surprised what you can learn in the war games."

"Like who will stab you in the back," I said.

"Especially that," Hazel agreed.

I think that worried Percy a bit because he straightened his armor so his left side was better protected—which is odd considering Percy had his armor strapped on pretty good. In fact, too good for a new recruit. It was as if he been wearing armor most of his life. There were two things that wasn't regulation. One was of course his bronze thermos strapped to his belt. I wouldn't be surprise if that was a magical item given to him by Neptune. The other was Percy's glowing bronze sword—not Imperial gold, and not a _gladius_. The blade look leaf-shaped, and writing on the hilt was Greek.

We marched to the center of the Field of Mars and formed ranks. The Third and Fourth Cohorts assembled as far as possible from the Fifth. The centurions for the attacking side gathered for a conference. In the sky above us, Reyna circled on her Pegasus, Scipio, ready to play referee.

Half a dozen giant eagles flew in formation behind her—prepared for ambulance airlift duty if necessary. The only person not participating in the game was Nico di Angelo, "Pluto's ambassador," who had climbed an observation tower about a hundred yards from the fort and would be watching with binoculars.

I looked back at the sword and Thermos, they made me feel uneasy, but there were no rules against using other weapons or magical items, otherwise I wouldn't be carrying a bow and quiver. Although, unless the magical item is counted as a weapon, most Romans looked down on them. Even more so than archers and Calvary. But after seeing what Percy did to the gorgons using the Little Tiber, I wouldn't be surprise if he can improvise it into a weapon.

"Chances are we'll get the worst duty and get eliminated early. They'll throw us at the walls first to soften up the defenses. Then the Third and Fourth Cohorts will march in and get the honors, _if they_ can even breach the fort," Hazel said.

Percy frowned. "They call that teamwork? It sounds more like eliminating the weakest link? Why not just use plan Attack plan Macedonia or something like that?"

"Attack plan Macedonia?" Hazel asked.

"Yeah, split the cohorts three ways, one group to attack the front line and two other groups attack from the side," Percy said.

It was actually a good plan. It would spread the First and Second Cohorts thin trying to guard at all sides increasing our chances. Sadly, it wasn't Percy's call and it wasn't Roman style fighting, so chances were the centurions won't agree with it. But it did give me an idea.

Horns blew. Dakota and Gwen walked back from the officer conference, looking grim.

"All right, here's the plan!" Dakota took a quick swig of Kool-Aid from his travel flask. "They're throwing us at the walls first to soften up the defenses."

The whole cohort groaned.

"I know, I know," Gwen said. "But maybe this time we'll have some luck!"

Leave it two Gwen to be optimist. Everybody liked her because she took care of her people and tried to keep their spirits up. She could even control Dakota during his hyperactive bug-juice fits. Still, the campers grumbled and complained. In the Fifth Cohort, there was no such thing as luck. Not since Michael Varus led a quest to Alaska.

"First line with Dakota," Gwen said. "Lock shields and advance in turtle formation to the gates. Try to stay in one piece. Draw their fire. Second line—" Gwen turned to my row without much enthusiasm. You seventeen, from Bobby over, take charge of the elephant and the scaling ladders. Try a flanking attack on the western wall. Maybe we can spread the defenders too thin. Frank, Hazel, and Percy… well, just do whatever. Show Percy the ropes, try to keep him alive, and see what he can do." She turned back to the whole cohort. "If anybody gets over the wall first, I'll make sure you get the Mural Crown. Victory for the Fifth!"

The cohort cheered half heartedly and broke ranks.

Well, this might go easier than I thought.

"Mural Crown—what is that?" Percy asked. "They mention it earlier."

"It's a military metal," I said. I'd been forced to memorized all the possible awards. "Big honor for the first soldier to breach enemy fort. You'll notice nobody in the Fifth is wearing one. Usually we don't even get into the fort because we're burning or drowning or whatever. But I got a plan that involves you."

"Me?" Percy asked.

"The water cannons on the walls," I said, "they draw water from the aqueduct."

"Design with the aqueducts that travels down in a slight slant every few feet so the water can flow from the source to it's destination, and I'm guessing that there's a pipe system that transfer it to where the water is needed?" Percy asked.

I blinked. "Exactly. Anyways—if you could control them, like you controlled the river—"

"Frank!" Hazel beamed. "That's brilliant!"

Percy thought of it for a bit. "I should be able to do that, but only if I can get close to the wall."

"We can get you closer." I pointed to the eastern wall of the fort, where the Fifth Cohort wouldn't be attacking. That's where the defense will be weakest. They won't take us seriously since we're from the Fifth Cohort."

"Except that Percy prove himself as a swordsman," Hazel reminded me.

Percy thought for a bit and looked at the wall. "It's worth the try. But how do we get close to them?"

I turned to Hazel. "Can you do that thing again?"

She punched me in the chest. "You said you wouldn't tell anybody.

Immediately I felt terrible. I'd gotten so caught up in the idea…

Hazel muttered under her breath. "Never mind. It's fine."

"What?" Percy asked.

Hazel sighed. "Frank is talking about trenches. The Field of Mars is riddled with tunnels over the years. Some are collapsed, or buried deep, but a lot of them are still passable. I'm pretty good at finding them and using them. I can even collapse them if I have to."

"Like you did with the gorgons," Percy said, "to slow them down.

I nodded approvingly. "I told you. Pluto is the god of everything under the earth. Hazel can find caves, tunnels, trapdoors—"

"Labyrinth entrances?" Percy asked.

It seemed out of nowhere but I nodded. "As long as it's underground."

"And it was _our_ secret," Hazel grumbled.

I felt myself blushing. "Yeah, sorry."

"Don't worry. I swear on the River of Styx that I won't tell anyone without your permission," Percy told Hazel, which caught her off guard as the sky rumbled.

"Percy, is that wise making an oath like that?" Hazel asked. "Even for Romans that's one of the most serious oaths."

Percy shrugged like it wasn't the first time he was told that.

"Okay. So even if we knock out the water cannons and scale the wall," I said.

"Percy, can your thermos summon a water blast powerful enough to send the user flying?" Hazel asked.

"Wait what?" I asked, "Your thermos can summon water blast?"

Percy explained to me how the inside was coated with fossilize sea shells that let him summon a water blast if he focuses his power into it. In other words—at least from what I understand—Percy had his own water cannon strapped to his belt.

"The only problem is, I don't know if I can carry two people with me when I do it," Percy said. "It might too risky to try it out while carrying you two."

"Then we'll need another way to scale it," Hazel said.

At that moment I decided to check my quiver. I always stocked up on special arrows. I'd never gotten to use them before, but maybe tonight was the night. Maybe I could finally do something good enough to get Apollo's attention.

"The rest is up to me," I said. "Let's go."


	11. Frank's POV Part III

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N:** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story. Because I KNOW I warn all of you about the first chapter before it started.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **Frank's POV Part III**

I never felt so sure of anything, which made me nervous. Nothing I ever planned went right. I always manage to break, ruin, burn, sit on, or knock over something important. Yet, somehow, I _knew_ this strategy would work. Because in away, it was sort of like how Percy mention the Attack Plan Macedonia, with Dakota's group attacking up front, Gwendolyn attacking from the west, and us three coming to the east. Just improvised.

Hazel found us a tunnel with no problem. In fact, I had a sneaking suspicion that she didn't just _find_ tunnels. It was though tunnels manufactured themselves to suit her needs. Passages that had been filled years ago suddenly unfilled, changing direction to lead Hazel where she wanted to go. We crept along the light of Percy's glowing sword, Riptide.

Above, we could hear the sounds of the battle—kids shouting, Hannibal the elephant bellowing with glee, scorpion bolts exploding, and water cannons firing. The tunnel shook and dirt rain down on us.

I slipped my hand inside my armor. The piece of wood was still safe and secure in my coat pocket, though one good shot from a scorpion might set my lifeline on fire…

Bad Frank, I chided myself. _Fire_ is the 'F-word.' Don't think about it.

"There's an opening just ahead," Hazel announced. "We'll come up ten feet from the east wall. I'm not sure how I could tell, but I'm certain."

"Might be a Pluto thing," Percy said.

"Maybe," Hazel agreed.

"Could we tunnel straight under the wall?" I asked.

"No," Hazel said. The engineers were smart. They built the walls on old foundation that go down to bedrock."

At that moment I stumbled over something and cursed. Percy brought his sword around for more light and I saw that I tripped over gleaming silver.

I crouched down to inspect it.

"Don't touch it!" Hazel said.

My hand stopped a few inches from the chunk of metal. It looked like a giant Hershey's Kiss, about the size of my fist.

"It's massive," I said. "Silver?"

"Platinum." Hazel sounded scared out of her wits. "It'll go away in a second. Please don't touch it. It's dangerous."

I didn't understand how a lump of metal could be dangerous, but I took Hazel seriously. As we watched the chunk of platinum sank into the ground.

I stared at Hazel. "How did you know?"

In the light of Percy's sword, Hazel looked as ghostly as a Lar.

Another explosion rocked the tunnel.

"Let's figure that out later," Percy said, "The sooner we get this plan done, the better."

Neither Hazel nor I disagreed, but I can't help but noticed that Hazel looked relief when Percy suggest that. We forged ahead.

We popped out of the hole just where Hazel had predicted. In front of us, the fort's east wall loomed. Off to our left, I could see the main line of the Fifth Cohort advancing in turtle formation, shields forming a shell over their heads and sides. They were trying to reach the main gates, but the defenders above pelted them with rocks and flaming bolts from the scorpions, blasting craters around their feet. A water cannon discharge with a jaw rattling _THRUM_ , and a jet of liquid carved a trench in the dirt right in front of the cohorts.

The Third and Fourth Cohorts weren't even advancing. They stood back and laughed, watching their "allies" get beat up. The defenders clustered on the wall above the gates, yelling insults at the tortoise formation as it staggered back and forth. War games had deteriorated into "beat up the Fifth." As if the other Cohorts were sending a message: "just because you got a descent sword fighter doesn't mean you'll win."

My vision went red with anger.

"Let's shake things up." I was about to reach my quiver when Percy grabbed my shoulder. "Hold on a second. I want to try something first."

Percy moved his sword to his left hand, took a deep breath, and snapped his fingers. When he did there was a strong breeze and the guards up above suddenly moved out to other part of the wall, leaving only enough people to manned each Scorpion and Water Cannon. It also eased the attacks on Dakota's group.

"What did you do?" Hazel asked.

"I— _uh_ —sort of used the Mist to convince most of the defenders to _help_ their buddies on the south wall," Percy said.

I blinked. "You can manipulate the Mist? Since when?"

Percy shrugged. "I can't remember, I just sort of knew."

"We can solve the Mist Manipulation later, right now we need to scale the wall," Hazel said.

I nodded. I reached in my quiver and pulled out an arrow heavier than the rest. The iron tip was shaped like the nose cone of a rocket. An ultra-thin gold rope trailed from the fletching. Shooting it accurately up the wall would talk more force and skill than most archers could manage, but I had strong arms and good aim.

Maybe Apollo is watching, I thought hopefully.

"Is that supposed to be a grappling hook?" Percy asked.

"It's called a hydra arrow," I said. "Can you knock out those water cannons."

"With that water pressure? No problem!"

Above the remaining defenders noticed us. "Hey!" he shouted to his remaining buddies. "Check it out! More victims!"

Percy closed his eyes and raised his hand.

Up on the wall, somebody yelled, "Open wide losers!"

 _KA-BOOM!_

The cannon exploded in a starburst of blue, green and white. The remaining defenders screamed as a watery shockwave flatten them against the battlement. Kids toppled over the walls but were snatched by giant eagles and carried to safety. Then the entire eastern wall shuddered as explosion backup through the pipelines. One after another, the water cannons of the battlement exploded. The scorpions' fires were doused. Defenders scattered in confusion or were tossed through the air, giving the rescue eagles quite a workout.

At the main gates, the Fifth Cohorts forgot about their formation. Mystified, they lowered their shields and stared at the chaos.

At that moment I shot my arrow. It streaked upward, carrying its glittering rope. When it reached the top, the metal point fractured into a dozen lines that lashed out and wrapped around anything they could find—parts of the wall, a scorpion, a broken water cannon, even a couple of defending campers, who yelped and found themselves slammed against the battlements as anchor. From the main rope, handholds extended as two-foot intervals, making a ladder."

"Go!" I said.

Percy grinned. "No Frank, you should lead. Show your dad what you can do."

I hesitated. Then I slung my bow on my back and began to climb. I was halfway up before defenders recovered their senses enough to sound the alarm for those at the south wall—probably arguing over a false alarm.

I glanced back at the Fifth Cohorts main group. They were staring at me, dumbfounded.

"Well?" I screamed. "Attack!"

Gwen was the first to unfreeze. She grinned and repeated the order. A cheer went up from the battlefield. Hannibal the elephant trumpeted with happiness, but I couldn't afford to watch. I clambered to the top of the wall, where three defendes trying to hack down my rope ladder.

For once, I'm glad I'm big, clumsy, and clad in metal, because it turned me into a heavy armored bowling ball. I launched myself at the defenders and they toppled like pins. I got to my feet. I took command of the battlements, sweeping my _pilium_ back and forth knocking down defenders. Shot some arrows. Some tried to get under my guard with their swords, but I felt unstoppable.

That's when Percy leaped onto the wall and uncapped his thermos and summoned a water blast out of it, that knocked the defenders away, giving Hazel time to come up and appear at my side with her cavalry sword like she was born for battle

Together we cleared the defenders off the walls as down below Hannibal barreled into the fort, arrows and rocks bouncing harmlessly off his Kevlar armor. The Fifth Cohort charged in behind the elephant, and the battle went hand-to-hand.

I could hear the Third and Fourth Cohort coming to an attack—most likely realizing we're about to take the glory, but it was too late.

"Let's get the banner before they could," I said.

Hazel and Percy nodded and together we moved like a team, as if the three of us had been working together for years. We rushed down the interior steps and into the enemy base.


	12. Frank's POV Part IV

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N:** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story. Because I KNOW I warn all of you about the first chapter before it started.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **Frank's POV Part IV**

After that, the battle was mayhem.

The enemy gathered after realizing they were tricked by—whatever Percy used the Mist to trick them into thinking.

Percy Hazel and I waded through the enemy, blowing down anyone who stood in our way. The First and Second Cohorts—pride of Camp Jupiter, a well-oiled, highly discipline war machine—fell apart under the assault and the sheer novelty of being on the losing side.

The thing was with Percy. The guy had a unique combination of switching from using his thermos to lower our enemy and then using his sword Riptide to help deal with the rest in a completely unorthodox style, rolling under their feet, slashing with his sword instead of stabbing like a Roman would, whacking campers with the flat of his blade and generally causing a mass panic.

Most importantly, where is his energy coming from? Ever since we started charging, it seemed that Percy acted like he was hyped up on caffeine that would make even Dakota look tame.

Octavian screamed in a shrill voice—maybe ordering the First Cohort to stand their ground, maybe trying to sing soprano—but Percy quickly switched back to his thermos and summoned a water blast that send Octavian and most of his goons flying toward a nearby wall.

I shot arrows until my quiver was empty, using blunt-tipped missiles that wouldn't kill but left some nasty bruises. I broke my _pilum_ over a defender's head, then reluctantly drew my _gladius_.

Meanwhile, Hazel climbed onto Hannibal's back. She charged toward the center of the fort grinning down at us. "Let's go, slowpokes!"

Gods of Olympus, she's beautiful, I thought.

"Hey Frank, come on!" Percy yelled to me as he was once again back to using his sword. Seriously, how does he keep switching like that?

We ran to the center of the base. The inner keep was virtually unguarded. Obviously the defenders never dreamed an assault would get this far. Hannibal busted down the huge doors. Inside, the First and Second Cohort standard-bearers were sitting around a table playing Mythomagic with cards and figurines. The cohort's emblem were propped carelessly against one wall.

Hazel and Hannibal rode straight into the room and the standard-bearers fell backward out of their chairs. Hannibal stepped on the table, and the game pieces scattered.

By the time the rest of the cohorts caught up with us, Percy and I disarmed the enemies, grabbed the banners—Percy taking the first cohort's banner as I took the second Cohort's banner—and both of us climbed onto Hannibal's back with Hazel. We marched out of the keep triumphantly. With the enemy colors.

The Fifth Cohort formed ranks around us. Together we paraded out of the fort, past stunned enemies and lines of equally mystified allies.

Reyna circled low overhead on her Pegasus. "The game is won!" She sounded as if she were trying not to laugh. "Assemble for honor!"

Slowly the campers regrouped on the Field of Mars. I saw plenty of minor injuries—some burns, broken bones, black eyes, cuts and gashes, plus a lot of very interesting hairdos from fires and exploding water cannons—but nothing that couldn't be fixed.

I slid off the elephant. My comrades swarmed me, pounding me on the back and complimenting me. I wondered if I was dreaming. It was the best night of my life—until I saw Gwen.

"Help!" Somebody yelled.

A couple of campers rushed out of the fortress, carrying a girl on a stretcher. They set her down, and the other kids started running over. Even from a distance, I could tell it was Gwen, and that she was in a bad shape. She lay on her side on the stretcher with a _pilum_ sticking out of her armor—almost like she was holding it between her chest and arm, but there was too much blood.

I shook my head in disbelief. "No, no, no…" I muttered as I ran to her side.

The medics barked at everyone to stand back and give her air. The whole legion fell silent as healers worked—trying to get gauze and powdered unicorn horn under Gwen's armor to stop the bleeding, trying to force some nectar into her mouth. Gwen didn't move. Her face was ashen gray.

Finally, one of the medics looked up at Reyna and shook his head.

For a moment, there was no sound except water from the ruined cannons trickling down the walls of the fort. Hannibal nuzzled Gwen's hair with his trunk. Even Percy, who didn't have time to know Gwen, was gripping his sword with trembling hands so hard his knuckles were white.

Reyna surveyed the campers from Pegasus. Her expression was as hard and dark as iron. "There will be an investigation. Whoever did this, you cost the legion a good officer. Honorable death is one thing, but _this_ …"

At first I wasn't sure what she meant. Then I noticed the marks engraved in the wooden shaft of the _pilum_ : CHT I LEGIO XII F. The weapon belonged to the First Cohort, and was sticking out of the front of her armor. Gwen had been speared from behind—possibly _after_ the game had ended.

I also understood why Percy was mad. As unorthodox as his fighting style was, at least he didn't go for the kill.

I scanned the crowd for Octavian. The centurion was watching with more interest than concern, as if he were examining one of his stupid gutted teddy bears. He didn't' have a _pilum_.

Blood roared in my ears. I wanted to strangle Octavian with my bare hands, but at that moment Gwen gasped.

Everyone stepped back. Gwen opened her eyes as the color came back to her face.

"Wh-what is it?" She blinked. "What's everyone staring at?" She didn't seem to notice the seven-foot harpoon sticking through her chest.

Behind me, a medic whispered. "There's no way. She was dead. She _has_ to be dead."

Gwen tried to sit up, but couldn't. "There was a river, and a man with transparent skin that showed his skull asking… for a coin."

Percy's eyes widened as if knowing who she was talking about. "Charon…"

"I turned around and the exit door was open. So I just… I just left. I don't understand what happened?"

Everyone stared her in horror. Nobody tried to help. Nobody but Percy.

He stepped up and knelt next to her. "Don't get up. Just close your eyes."

"Why? What?"

"Trust me," Percy said.

Percy decided to use his sword to break off the wooden shaft from the back, making it easier to work with.

I realized what Percy was doing. "Hazel, let's help Percy out."

Hazel nodded as we moved forward.

"Need help?" I asked.

"Yeah, actually, you can," Percy said, "Frank, I want you to pull the point from the front since you're stronger. Hazel, help me hold Gwen down.

Hazel and I nodded and got into position.

"On three… one, two, three!"

I pulled the _pilum_ out from the front—which was easy now that the _Pilum_ wasn't as long as before. Gwen didn't even wince. The blood stopped quickly.

Hazel bent down to examine the wound. "It's closing on its own," she said. "I don't know how, but—"

"I feel fine," Gwen protested. "What's everyone worried about?"

Percy and I helped Gwen got to her feet. I glowered at Octavian, who was now masking his actions with polite concern.

 _Later,_ I thought. _Deal with him later._

"Gwen," Hazel said gently, "there's no easy way to say this. You were dead. Somehow you came back."

"I… what?" she stumbled against me. Her hand pressed against the ragged hole in her armor. "How—how?"

"Good question." Reyna turned to Nico, who was watching grimly from the edge of the crowd. "Is this some power of Pluto?"

Nico shook his head. "Pluto is stern when it comes to keeping balance between life and death. He never lets people return from the dead."

He glanced at Hazel as if warning her to stay quiet. I wonder what that was about, but I didn't have time to think about it.

A thunderous voice rolled across the field: _Death loses its hold. This is only the beginning._

Campers drew weapons. Hannibal trumpeted nervously. Scipio reared, almost throwing Reyna.

"I know that voice," Percy said. Which didn't sound pleased.

In the midst of the legion, a column of fire blasted into the air. Heat seared my eyelashes. Campers who had been soaked by the cannons found their clothes instantly steam-dried. Everyone scrambled backward as a huge soldier stepped out of the explosion.

I didn't have much hair, but what I _did_ have stood straight up. The soldier was ten feet tall, dressed in Canadian Forces desert camouflage. He radiated confidence and power. His black hair was cut in a flat-topped wedge like mine. His face was angular and brutal, marked with old knife scars. His eyes were covered with infrared goggles that glowed from inside. He wore a utility belt with a sidearm, a knife holster, and several grenades. In his hands was an oversized M16 rifle.

The worst thing was that I felt _drawn_ to him. As everyone stepped back, I stepped forward. I realized the soldier was silently willing me to approach.

I desperately wanted to run away and hide, but I couldn't. I took three more steps. Then I sank to one knee.

The other campers followed his example and knelt. Even Reyna dismounted.

"That's good," the soldier said. "Kneeling is good. It's been a long time since I've visited Camp Jupiter."

I noticed that Percy was the only one not kneeling. He still had his sword in his hand and was glaring at the soldier.

"So, you're Ares' Roman form, Mars," Percy said.

I thought the god would smite Percy for not kneeling, but instead he bared his brilliant white teeth.

"You've got spunk demigod," he said. "That's right. To these followers, to the children of Rome, I am Mars—patron of the empire, and divine father of Romulus and Remus. I take it you know my Greek form, considering you brought up Ares, right?"

"We had a fight," Percy frowned. "At least, I think we did."

"You did, did you?" Mars asked. "My Greek form must have gone soft if you're still alive."

I had no clue what Mars was talking about, but judging from Percy's face, he didn't get off easy.

"Now, kneel, as benefits a child of Rome, or do you want to see what happens when you fight a Roman god?" Mars asked as around his feet, the ground boiled in a circle of flames.

Percy reluctantly kneeled down.

Mars scanned the crowd. "Romans, lend me your ears!" He laughed—a good hearty bellow, so infectious it almost made me smile, though I was still shivering with fear. "I've always wanted to say that. I come from Olympus with a message. Jupiter doesn't like us communicating directly with mortals, especially nowadays, but he allowed this exception, as you Romans have always been my special people. I'm only permitted to speak for a few minutes, so listen up."

He pointed at Gwen. "This one should be dead, yet she's not. The monsters you fight no longer return to Tartarus when they are slain. Some mortals who died long ago are now walking the earth again."

Is it my imagination, or did the god glare at Nico di Angelo?

"Thantos has been chained," Mars announced. "The Doors of Death have been forced open, and no one is policing them—at least, not _impartially_. Gaea allows our enemies to pour forth into the world of mortals. Her sons the giants are mustering armies against you—armies that you will not be able to kill. Unless Death is unleashed to return to his duties, you will be overrun. You must find Thantos and free him from the giants. Only _he_ can reverse the tide."

Mars looked around, and noticed that everyone was still silently kneeling. "Oh, you can get up now. Any questions?"

Reyna rose uneasily. She approached the god, followed by Octavian, who was bowing and scraping like a champion groveler.

"Lord Mars," Reyna said. "we are honored."

" _Beyond_ honored," said Octavian. "So far beyond honored—"

"Well?" Mars snapped.

"Well," Reyna said, "Thantos is the god of death, the lieutenant of Pluto?"

"Right," the god said.

"And you're saying that he's been captured by giants."

"Right."

"And therefore people will stop dying?"

"Not all at once," Mars said. "But the barriers between life and death will continue to weaken. Those who knows how to take advantage of this will exploit it. Monsters are already harder to dispatch. Soon they will be completely impossible to kill. Some demigods will also be able to find their way back from the Underworld—like your friend Centurion Shishkebab. By the way, Punk, nice work in the _pilum_ there. I would have removed the whole thing myself."

Percy didn't know whether to respond or not. Gwen winced. "Centurion Shish Kebab?'

"If left unchecked," Mars continued. "even mortals will find it impossible to die. Can you imagine a world in which no one dies— _ever_?"

Octavian raised his hand. "But, ah, mighty all-powerful Lord Mars, if we can't die, isn't that a good thing? If we can stay alive indefinitely—"

"Don't be foolish, boy!" Mars bellowed. "Endless slaughter with no conclusion? Carnage without any point? Enemies that rise again and again and can never be killed? Is that what you want?"

I swear I heard Percy muttered at that point, "That's what Ares would want."

Mars laughed. "True, if I were in my Greek form I probably would. But I'm not Ares. I protect the legions. I am happy to crush my enemies underfoot, but I don't fight without reason. I don't want war without end. You will discover this. You will serve me."

Percy rolled his eyes but said, "As long as you're better than your Greek half."

Many campers gasped but Mars laughed like he was talking trash with a buddy.

"I'm ordering a quest!" the god announced. "You will go north and find Thantos in the land beyond the gods. You will free him and thwart the plans of the giants. Beware Gaea! Beware her son, the eldest giant!"

Next to me, Hazel made a squeaking sound. "The land beyond the gods?"

Mars stared down at her, his grip tightening on his M16. "That's right, Hazel Levesque. You know what I mean. Everyone here remembers the land where the legion lost its honor! Perhaps if the quest succeeds, and you return by the Feast of Fortuna… perhaps then your honor will be restored. If you don't succeed, there won't be any camp left to return to. Rome will be overrun, its legacy lost forever. So my advice is: Don't fail."

Octavian somehow managed to bow even lower. "Um, Lord Mars, just one tiny thing. A quest requires a prophecy, a mystical poem to guide us! We used to get them from the Sibylline books, but now it's up to the augur to glean the will of the gods. So if I could just run and get about seventy stuffed animals and possibly a knife—"

"You're the augur?" the god interrupted.

"Y-yes, my lord."

Mars pulled a scroll from his utility belt and turned to Percy, "Hey Punk, your sword turns into a pen if you cap the handle right? Give it too me!"

Percy was reluctant, as if debating whether he should or not. But then he took out the lid and capped the handle of his sword, which shrank down to pen form, only with the writing end usable and handed it to Mars. "I want it back!"

"Yeah, yeah… now let's see."

Mars slung his M16 onto his back and took the pen.

I looked at Percy and mouthed: _You can use your sword as a writing utensil?_

Percy shrugged.

"There! By the way, Punk, I don't know where you got your sword, but the glowing ink was a nice touch." Mars finished writing and threw the scroll to Octavian and the pen back to Percy who caught it with ease. "A prophecy. You can add it to your books, engrave it on your floor, whatever."

Octavian read the scroll. This says, 'Go to Alaska. Find Thantos and free him. Come back by sundown on June twenty-fourth or die.'"

"Yes," Mars said. "Is that not clear?"

"Well, my lord… usually prophecies are _unclear_. They wrapped in riddles. They rhyme, and…"

Mars casually popped a grenade off his belt. "Yes?"

"The prophecy is clear!" Octavian announced. "A quest."

"Good answer." Mars tapped the grenade to his chin. "Now, what else? There's something else… Oh, yes."

He turned to me. "C'mere, kid."

No, I thought. The burned stick in my coat pocket felt heavier. My legs turned wobbly. A sense of dread settle over me, worse than the day the military officer had come to the door.

I knew what was coming, but I couldn't stop it. I stepped forward against my will.

Mars grinned. "Nice job taking the wall, kid. "Who's the ref for this game?"

Reyna raised her hand.

"You see that play, ref?" Mars demanded. "That was _my_ kid. First over the wall, won the game for his team. Unless you're blind, that was an MVP play. You're not blind, are you?"

Reyna looked like she was trying to swallow a mouse. "No, Lord Mars."

"Then make sure he gets the Mural Crown," Mars demanded. "My kid, here!" he yelled at the legion, in case anyone hadn't heard. I wanted to melt into the dirt.

"Emily Zhang's son," Mars continued. "She was a good soldier. Good woman. This kid Frank proved his stuff tonight. Happy late birthday, kid. Time you step up to a _real_ man's weapon."

He tossed me his M16. For a split second I thought I would be crushed under the weight of the massive assault rifle, but the gun changed in midair, becoming smaller and thinner. When I caught it, the weapon was a spear. It had a shaft of Imperial gold and a strange point like a white tooth, flickering with ghostly light.

"The tip is a dragon's tooth," Mars said. "You haven't learned to use your mother's talent yet, have you? Well—that spear will give you some breathing room until you do. You get three charges out of it, so use it wisely."

I didn't understand, but Mars acted like the matter was closed. "Now, my kid Frank Zhang, who is predestined to be one of the greatest demigods of all times may I add, I gonna lead the quest to free Thantos with two others that I been told was predestined to be great. And those two are…"

Mars paused a bit as if adding a bit a drama. Although all I had to do was look at my two friend's faces to know which ones. "The girl Hazel Levesque, and the punk—uh what's your name again, kid?"

"Percy Jackson," Percy replied.

"Right!" Mars said. "Maybe you can learn to appreciate me more on this quest or die trying. Unless there are any objections?"

No one said a word, but many of the campers were glaring at my friends and me with envy, jealousy, anger, and bitterness.

"Good! Have one of your senate debates," Mars said, "You all are good at those."

The god's image flickered. Lightning crackled across the sky.

"That's my cue," Mars said. "Until next time, Romans. Don't disappoint me!"

Then the god erupted in flames, and then he was gone.

Reyna turned to me with a mix expression of amazement and nausea, like she finally managed to swallow that mouse. She raised her arm in a Roman salute. " _Ave_ , Frank Zhang, son of Mars."

The whole legion followed her lead, but I didn't want their attention anymore. My perfect night had been ruined.

Mars was my father. The god of war was sending my friends and me to Alaska. I had been handed more than a spear for my birthday. I'd been handed a death sentence.


	13. Percy's POV Part V

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N:** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story. Because I KNOW I warn all of you about the first chapter before it started.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **Percy's POV Part V**

I slept like one of Medusa's victims—which is to say, like a rock.

I hadn't crashed in a safe comfortable bed since… well, I couldn't remember. After the insane day like today and the million thoughts that ran through my head I fell asleep the moment my head touched the pillow.

Of course I had dreams. I always had dreams. At first I saw a huge ship in a dry dock, workers scrambling to finish the hull, a guy with a blowtorch welding a familiar bronze dragon head to the prow like a figure head. I saw the war god stalking toward him in the surf, a sword in his hands.

Then the dream accelerated until I stood on the Field of Mars, looking up at the Berkeley Hills. Golden grass rippled, and a face appeared in the landscape—a sleeping woman, her features formed from shadows and folds in the terrain. Her eyes remained closed, but her voice spoke in my mind:

 _So this is the demigod who defeated Kronos by having his vessel end it all. You're valuable to me. Come north. Meet Alcyoneus. Juno can play her little games with Greeks and Romans, but in the end, you will be my pawn. Your invulnerability is only a small set back, but in the end you will be the key to the gods' defeat._

My vision turned dark. I stood in a theater-size version of the camp's headquarters—a _principia_ with walls of ice and freezing mist hanging in the air. The floor was littered with skeletons in Roman armor and Imperial gold weapons encrusted with frost. In the back of the room sat an enormous shadowy figure. His skin glinted of gold and silver, as if he were an automaton like Reyna's dogs. Behind him stood a collection of ruined emblems, tattered banners, and a large golden eagle on a staff of iron.

The giant's voice boomed in the vast chamber. "This will be fun, son of Neptune. It's been eons since I broke a demigod of your caliber. I await you atop the ice."

 _No,_ I thought. _I won't. Show me something else. Show me Annabeth._

I don't know how I did it but my dreams changed once more, only this time they were passing like blurred images from the window of a train. I saw a curly-haired faun in ragged clothes running to catch up with me.

"I don't have any spare change," I called.

"What?" the faun said. "No, Percy. It's me, Grover! Stay put! We're trying to get a lock on your position."

"What?" I called, but the faun disappeared in the fog.

Then Annabeth was running along beside him, reaching her hand out. "Thank the gods!" she called. "For months and months we couldn't see you! Are you all right?"

I remembered what Juno said— _for months he has been slumbering, but now he is awake._ The goddess had intentionally kept me hidden, but why?

Right now I didn't care. I felt like Hannibal the elephant was standing on my chest. Something told me that was Annabeth, the only person I was able to remember since I woke up in the Wolf House. But before I could say anything, Annabeth's face began to dissolve. She cried. "Stay put! It'll be easier for Tyson to find you! Use your whistle if you have to!"

Then she was gone and the scene darkened after that.

…

I woke up know where I was. Then I remembered: Camp Jupiter, the Fifth Cohort barracks. I lay in my bunk staring at the ceiling and trying to control my racing heartbeat.

At first all I could think was the earlier scenes: one of the giant waiting to break me and the sleeping woman's face in the hill. _You will be my pawn_. I don't like being a pawn. Pawns normally die.

Then I focus on the last part. A faun name Grover was looking for me. Maybe that's why Don had detected what he called an empathy link. I don't know why, but I felt like I had another connection to the faun. Like he was family.

Then I saw Annabeth who warned me to stay and that somebody called Tyson was searching for me. Another person I feel like I should know but I can't remember. But there was one thing Annabeth said that disturbed me. _Use your whistle if you have to!_

The oddest part was that I did have a whistle—a dog whistle to be exact. In fact, I still have it in my pocket. I woke up with it in the wolf house, but when I asked Lupa she advised I don't until the time was right.

Several times I been tempted to blow it, and see what happened. But each time I resisted as the timing wasn't right. I reached into my pocket and found it still there.

I sat up in my bunk. My roommates were rushing around, getting dressed and brushing their teeth. Dakota was wrapping himself in a long piece of red-speckled cloth—a toga One of the Lares was giving him pointers on where to tuck and fold.

"Breakfast time?" I asked hopefully.

Frank's head popped up from the bunk below. He had bags under his eyes like he didn't sleep well. Then again if I found out the god of war was my dad instead of the one I hoped for I wouldn't sleep well either. "A quick breakfast. Then we've got the senate meeting."

Dakota's head was stuck in his toga. He staggered around like a Kool-Aid-stained ghost.

"Do we have to wear togas?" I asked.

"No," Frank replied. "That's just for the senators. There are ten of them, elected yearly. You've got to be at camp five years to qualify. The only reason we're going is because… you know, the quest." Frank sounded worried, like he was afraid I would back out. "We have to be in on the discussion. You, me, Hazel. I mean, if you're still willing…"

Frank probably didn't mean to guilt me, but my heart felt pulled like a taffy. I couldn't help but feel sympathy for Frank. Sure Mars didn't turn out the jerk I thought Ares was—still a jerk, but not as bad. But Frank had high hopes that his father would be Apollo.

"Don't worry about it," I said. "It's almost like what Mars said. The quest is meant for three of some of the greatest heroes of all time."

Frank nodded. Truth was, I'm uncertain about all of this, especially after my dream. But I didn't want to show it.

I remember how Hazel said I sounded like Jason when I talk: how I spoke with so much confidence that she couldn't help but listen. But I doubt Jason was just putting up a show all the time like I just did.

I climbed out of bed and got dressed. The whole time, I thought about Annabeth. Help was on the way. I could have my old life back. All I have to do was stay put. But can I do that? I felt I was torn between helping Frank and Hazel or getting my old life back.

I decided to place the dog whistle in my thermos. I doubted I would need to use it during the senator meeting, so the whistle should be safe there.

At breakfast, I was conscious of everyone looking at me. They were whispering about the previous night:

"Two gods in one day…"

"Un-Roman fighting…"

"Broke the _pilum_ to remove it…"

"Water up my nose…"

"Magical Thermos…"

I was too hungry to care. I filled up on pancakes, eggs, bacon, waffles, apples, and several glasses of orange juice. Besides it's not like I stabbed Gwen from behind (I'm still angry that someone did that). I probably would have eaten more, but Reyna announced that the senate would convene in the city, and all the folks in togas got up to leave.

"Here we go." Hazel fidget with a stone that looked like a two-carat ruby.

The ghost Vitellius appeared next to them in a purple shimmer. _"Bona fortuna_ , you three! Ah, senate meetings. I remember the one when Caesar was assassinated. Why, the amount of blood on his toga—"

"Thanks, Vitellius," Frank interrupted. "We should get going."

Reyna and Octavian led the procession of senators out of the camp, with Reyna's metal greyhounds dashing back and forth along the road. Hazel, Frank, and I trailed behind. I noticed Nico di Angelo in the group, wearing a black toga and talking with Gwen, who looked a little pale but surprisingly good considering she'd been dead the night before. Nico waved at me, then went back to his conversation. I'm pretty sure at this point that Hazel's brother was trying to avoid me.

Dakota stumbled along in his red-speckled toga. A lot of other senators seemed to be having trouble with their togas, too—hiking their hems, trying to keep the cloth from slipping off their shoulders. I was glad I was wearing a regular purple T-shirt and jeans.

"By the way, Percy, I take it since you brought your thermos, you brought your sword, too right?" Hazel asked.

My hand went into my pocket where my pen always stayed. "Are we supposed to?"

"No weapons allowed inside the Pomerian line," she said.

"Pomerian—as in city limits?"

"Yeah," Frank said. "Inside is a sacred 'safe zone.' Legions can't march through. No weapons allowed. That's so senate meeting don't get bloody."

I guess that makes sense after what Vitellius described.

That would have been nice to know at the barracks, I thought. Then again, I don't think I can even leave my sword behind unless I was wearing pocket-less pants.

As we got closer to the city, I could appreciate how beautiful it was. The tiled roofs and gold domes gleamed in the sun. Gardens bloomed with honeysuckle and roses. The central plaza was paved in white and gray stone, decorated with statues, fountains, and gilded columns. In the surrounding neighborhoods, cobblestone streets were lined with freshly painted town houses, shops, cafés, and parks. In the distance rose the coliseum and the horse racing arena.

I didn't notice we'd reached the city limits until the senators in front of me started slowing down.

On the side of the roof stood a white marble statue—a life-size muscular man with curly hair, no arms, and an irritated expression. At least, that the way he looked from the waist up. From the waist down, he was just a big block of marble. I looked to my left and right and noticed there were a line of identical statues ringed the city at intervals of about a hundred yard.

"Single file, please!" the statue said. "Have your IDs ready."

The senators passed through easily. The statue checked the tattoos on their forearms and called each senator by name. "Gwendolyn, senator, Fifth Cohort, yes. Nico di Angelo, ambassador of Pluto—very well. Reyna, praetor, of course. Hank, senator, Third Cohort—oh, nice shoes, Hank! Ah, who do we have here?"

Hazel, Frank, and I were the last ones.

"Terminus," Hazel said, "this is Percy Jackson. Percy, this is Terminus—"

"The god of boundaries," I said as if the answer came into my head.

"That's right!" Terminus said. "So you're new, huh? Yes, _probatio_ tablet—oh and already assigned as assistant sword fighting instructor. Fine. Ah, weapon in your pocket. Take it out! Take it out!"

I was actually planning too, not wanting to break the rules, but I was surprise he knew about the Thermos. Did he knew about my whistle too?

I took them out.

"That pen is quite dangerous," Terminus said. "What about the thermos, what does it do?"

"It's sort of like Percy's portable water cannon," Frank said.

"Then that's a weapon too! Handed over!" Terminus said. "We can't have camper blasting other campers with water."

"Fine! Okay!" I responded as I took out my thermos.

"Leave it in the tray," Terminus said. "Wait, where's my assistant? Julia!"

A little girl about six years old peeked out from behind the base of the statue. She had pigtails, a pink dress, and a impish grin with two missing teeth. I'm guessing from what Hazel said about families in New Rome, she was a legacy.

"Julia?" Terminus glanced behind him, and Julia scurried the other direction. "Where did that girl go?"

Terminus looked the other way and caught sight of Julia before she could hide. The girl squealed with delight.

"Oh, there you are," said the statue. Front and center. Bring the tray."

Julia scrambled out and brushed off her dress. She picked up a tray and present it to me. On it were several paring knives, a corkscrew, an oversized container of sun lotion, and a water bottle. Just how are sun lotion and water bottles weapons?

"You can picked up your weapons on the way out," Terminus said.

I nodded and placed both of them on the tray. "Just be careful with the my sword and thermos. My thermos is a gift from my dad, and my sword returns to my pocket automatically."

"Julia will take good care of it. She's a trained professional," Terminus reassure me.

The little girl nodded. "Pro-fess-ion-al." She said each syllable carefully like she'd been practicing.

That didn't make me feel better about it. Especially if I'm right about her being the Legacy of Mercury.

"As for your sword," Terminus continued. "We'll make sure it doesn't wonder off. Won't we, Julia?"

"Yes, Mr. Terminus."

I placed both my sword and thermos in the tray. I didn't mention the whistle in the thermos, but since Terminus saw water bottles and sun lotion as weapons, I had a feeling he might see any whistle as a weapon.

"Now, a few rules, since you're new," Terminus said. "You are entering the boundaries of the city proper. Keep the peace inside the line. Yield to chariot traffic while walking on public roads. When you get to the Senate House, sit on the left-hand side. And, down there do you see where I'm pointing? Right down there in the forum-Julia point for me, please—"

I guess he realized I had no clue where we was referring to. Julia dutifully set down the security tray and pointed toward the main plaza.

"The shop with the blue awning," Terminus continued, "that's the general store. They sell tape measures. Buy one! I want those pants exactly one inch above the ankles and that hair regulation cut. And tuck your shirt in."

Hazel said, "Thank you, Terminus. We need to get going."

"Fine, fine, you may pass," the god said testily. "But stay on the right side of the road! And that rock right there—No, Hazel, look where I'm pointing. That rock is entirely too close to that tree. Move it two inches to the left.

At this point I was about to tell Terminus to just direct us whenever he thinks he's pointing, but I don't think he would take it well. One thing was sure, the God of Boundaries was OCD. Still, for some reason I got this feeling that Terminus wasn't bad around demigods as he could be.

Once Hazel was done doing what she was told we continued down the path. Terminus still shouting order at us while Julia did cartwheels across the grass.

"What's the regulation hair cut?" I asked.

"Don't worry about it. Terminus is just obsessive about it, but it's not really authorize," Hazel said.

"Okay, but what is it?" I asked.

"Somewhere between a close-crop to a military style buzz cut for boys," Frank said.

"Don't worry about it Percy. Reyna doesn't push for everyone to have Terminus' regulated haircuts as long as your helmet fits," Hazel said.

As we approached the forum, I was struck by the sheer number of people. Despite the fact that Hazel told me people live here after ten or more years at camp, I was still amazed. College-age kids were hanging out at the fountain. Several of them waved at the senators as we passed. One guy in his late twenties stood at the bakery counter, flirting with a young woman who was buying coffee. An older couple was watching a little boy in diapers and a miniature Camp Jupiter shirt toddler chase after seagulls. Merchants were opening their shops for the day, putting out signs in Latin that advertised pottery, jewelry, and half-price tickets or the Hippodrome.

I could almost imagine having a life here with Annabeth, sitting at a café holding hands, having our own kids chase seagulls across the forum.

I quickly shook the idea out of my head. I couldn't afford to indulge in that kind of thinking. Most of my memories were gone, but I knew this wasn't where I belong. It may feel like home now, and I may have found a couple of friends, but I'm pretty sure I belong somewhere else.

Besides, Camp Jupiter was in danger. If Juno was right, an attack was coming in less than five days. I could imagine that sleeping woman's face—the face of Gaea—forming in the hills above camp. I imagine hordes of monsters descending.

 _If you don't succeed,_ Mars had warned, _there won't be any camp left to return to. Rome will be overrun, its legacy lost forever_.

I started remembering my dream—the one of that ship being made. I thought I saw the god of war approaching it. I don't know why, but I got a feeling he was there to warn those working on the ship of our ship. I still haven't told anyone about it, but I hope they were reinforcements. Perhaps the name Annabeth mention: Tyson, he can be our reinforcements.

The senators made their way to a big white-domed building on the west end of the forum. I paused at the doorway, remembering how Hazel said I spoke with so much confidence everyone listened. Maybe if I'm able to speak, that might help us. I guess I wouldn't know unless I try. I took a deep breath and followed Frank and Hazel inside.


	14. Percy's POV Part VI

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **Percy's POV Part VI**

The Senate House interior looked like a high school lecture hall. A semicircle of tiered seats faced a dais with a podium and two chairs. The chairs were empty, but one had a small velvet package on the seat.

Hazel, Frank and I sat on the left side of the semicircle. The ten senators and Nico di Angelo occupied the rest of the front row. The upper rows were filled with several dozen ghost and adult demigods and legacies that Hazel told me were veterans acting as advisers. Each of them were wearing formal togas. Octavian stood in front with a knife and a beanie babies of a lion. I guess he planned to consult the gods twice just in case. Reyna walked to the podium and raised her hand for attention.

"Right, this is an emergency meeting," she said. "We won't stand on formalities."

"I love formalities!" a ghost complained.

Reyna shot him a cross look.

"First of all," she said. "we're not here to vote on the quest itself. The quest has been issued by Mars Ultor, patron of Rome. We will obey his wishes. Nor are we here to debate who he chosen to be Frank Zhang's companions."

"But all three of them are from the Fifth Cohort?" called out Hank from the Third. "That's not fair."

"And not smart," said the boy next to him. "We _know_ the Fifth will mess up. They should take somebody _good._ "

Dakota got up so fast, he spilled Kool-Aid from his flask. "You thought Percy Jackson was good enough swordsman to join your table last night. Not to mention we were plenty good last night when we whipped your _podex_ , Larry!"

True. Right before the games, Larry was one of the few males who suggested I join their tables where—in their terms—the real heroes sit.

"Enough, Dakota," Reyna said. "Let's leave Larry's _podex_ out of this. Now Mars said that his _claimed_ son Frank Zhang to lead the quest."

A ghost from the second row yelled, " _Absurdus!_ Frank isn't even a full member of the legion. He's on _probatio_. Son of Mars Ultor or not, a quest must be led by someone of centurion rank or higher. This is completely—"

"Cato," Reyna snapped. "We must obey the wishes of Mars Ultor. There's an opening for centurion," she said. "One of our officers, also a senator, has decided to step down after ten years of the legion and retire to the city, attend college and allowed certain arrangements needed for this quest in return that the recently added camper Percy Jackson earn his first stripe for being the only one who first step up to remove the pilum from her. Although it was a small deed, I have agreed since his method of snapping a pilum in half made it easier to remove. Gwen of the Fifth Cohort, we thank you for your service, and will follow through your request."

I find myself blushing. All I did was make it easier for the pilum to be removed.

There was an explosion of protest about how I fought unroman like and water cannon up their nose, and how I just joined last night, but Reyna flashed a glare at them that ended it.

"We'll start with the new Centurion," Reyna said.

She clapped her hands, and Octavian came forward. He set down his knife and Beanie Babies and took the velvet package from the chair.

"Frank Zhang," he said, "come forward."

Frank glanced nervously at me. Then he got to his feet and approached the augur.

"It is my… pleasure," Octavian said, forcing the word, "to bestow upon you the Mural Crown for being the first over the wall in the siege of warfare." Octavian handed him a bronze badge shaped like a laurel wreath. "Also, by the order of Praetor Reyna, to promote you to the rank of centurion."

He handed Frank another badge, a bronze crescent, and the senate exploded in protest—which was awfully like how they responded to me.

"Silence!" Octavian said in a commanding. "Our praetor recognizes that no one below the rank of centurion may lead the quest. For good or ill, Frank must lead this quest—so our praetor decreed that Frank Zhang must be made centurion. Just as it was her decision to let a son of _Neptune_ earn his first stripe after one small deed."

I quickly realized that Octavian just crafted his words to make Reyna the blame, especially if Frank and I mess up. I clutched my knee, wishing I had my sword, but stayed calm.

By the looks of it, Reyna looked like she wanted to slay Octavian too as an irritation flashed across her face. "Frank Zhang, your ID, please."

Frank removed the lead tablet from around his neck and handed it to Octavian.

"Your arm," Octavian said.

Frank held up his forearm. Octavian raised his hands to the heavens. "We accept Frank Zhang, Son of Mars, to the Twelfth Legion Fulminata for his first year of service. Do you pledge your life to the senate and people of Rome?"

Frank muttered something like "Uh-dud." Then he cleared his throat and manage: "I do."

The senators shouted, _"Senatus Populusque Romanus!"_

Fire blazed on Frank's arm. For a moment his eyes filled with terror, and I was afraid my friend might mass out. Then the smoke and flame died, and new marks were seared into Frank's skin: SPQR, an image of crossed spears and a single stripe, representing the first year of service.

"You may sit down." Octavian glanced at the audience as if saying: _This is not my idea folks._ Then he yelled: "Percy Jackson."

I got up and headed toward the annoying augur. When I passed Frank, he was still looking at the marks on his forearm, which were still steaming.

Octavian took out tablet that looked like the one I have excepted it was purple and have the title: _Legionnaire_ instead of Probatio. It still had the Latin translation of Assistant Sword Fighting Instructor, which I guess makes sense since I haven't had time to learn the Roman style which caused quite a riot last night.

"Percy Jackson, your ID please," Reyna said.

I removed my tablet from my necklace which felt odd since I gotten used to it.

"Your arm," Octavian said.

I showed my forearm like I saw Frank did.

Octavian then waved his hands to the heavens and said: "We accept Percy, Son of Neptune, to the Twelfth Legion Fulminata for his first year of service. Do you pledge your life to the senate and people of Rome?"

I still didn't feel like I belong here, but I remember what Juno said about how I would gain my memories if I achieve here. Maybe if I did this, it would get me closer to getting the rest of my memories back.

"I do," I said.

The senators shouted, _"Senatus Populusque Romanus!"_

Flames blazed on my arm. I thought I would feel searing pain, but it felt more like a stinging feeling like I just removed my hand after touching a hot stove.

When it was over there was images of SPQR, a trident representing Neptune and a single stripe, representing the first year of service.

"You may sit down now," Octavian said after handing me my new tablet without giving the crowd one of his smirks despite the fact that he used me to make Reyna look bad.

I thought back to what Octavian said about knowing about my Mark of Achilles and weak point and a thought occurred to me: _Is it possible he saw this coming?_

As odd as it sounded, for some reason I believed it. Octavian was the legacy of the god of prophecies, so it might be possible.

However, instead of making me scared, it made me angry. Octavian was using his powers to scare people. He was abusing his powers for his own gain. And that made my blood boil.

I placed it back on my necklace as I head back to my seat.

"We must discuss the quest," Reyna said.

I did not want to look at my marks. For some reason, I started to feel like I may have been closer to getting my memories, but farther away from the place I felt like I belong at.

When I got back to my seat Hazel was pinning Frank's new badges to his shirt.

"Congratulations," Frank said.

"Thanks, you two man," I responded. "Too be honest I don't think I earn my first stripe though."

"Most don't, but obviously Gwen thought you do," Hazel said. "And you must of impressed Reyna to get her to agree with Gwen too."

"Maybe you should have been Centurion," Frank said.

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "You deserve the rank, man. What you did last night? Natural leadership."

Frank scowled. "But _centurion—_ "

"Centurion Zhang," called Octavian. "Did you hear the question?"

Frank blinked. "Um… sorry. What?"

Octavian smirked at the senate and smirked, like _What did I tell you?_

"I was _asking_ ," Octavian said like he was talking to a three-year-old, "if you have a plan for the quest. Do you even know where you are going?"

"Um…"

Hazel put her hand on Frank's shoulder and stood. "Weren't _you_ listening last night, Octavian? Mars was pretty clear. We're going to the land beyond the gods—Alaska."

The senators squirmed in their togas. Some of the ghost shimmered and disappeared. Even Reyna's metal dogs rolled over on their backs and whimpered.

Finally, Senator Larry stood. "I know what Mars said, but that's crazy. Alaska is cursed! They call it the land beyond the gods for a reason. It's so far north, the Roman gods have no power there. The place is swarming with monsters."

"It doesn't matter," I stood up. "Your eagle is up there right? I wouldn't be surprise if the enemy Mars Ultor mention has it right now, using it to lure Romans there like a faun to the Golden Fleece."

"That's a strange way to put it," Octavian joked.

"The point is: if the enemy is holding Thantos, chances are they're holding him at the same place they're holding the eagle. Since it's our quest to free Thantos, if the Eagle is with him, then as members of the Cohort that lost the eagle, it's only right we're the ones who bring it back, along with all the weapons we lost."

Many senators nodded as it was true.

Octavian sighed in exasperation. "And how do you expect to do that and get back by the Feast of Fortuna? That's the evening of the twenty-fourth. It's the twentieth now. Do know you know where to look? Do you even know who this enemy is?"

"Yes." Hazel spoke with such certainty that even I was surprised. "I don't know _exactly_ where to look, but I have a pretty good idea. The son of Gaea and the giant bane of Pluto name is Alcyoneus."

The name seemed to lower the temperature in the room by fifty degrees. The senators shivered."

Reyna gripped her podium. "How do you know this, Hazel? Because you're a child of Pluto?"

Nico di Angelo, who been so quiet during the meeting I forgot he was there, stood in his black toga.

"Praetor, I may," he said. "Hazel and I… we learned a little about the giants from our father. Each giant was bred specifically to oppose one of the twelve Olympian gods—to usurp the god's domain. The king of the giants was Porphyrion, the anti-Jupiter. But the _eldest_ giant was Alcyoneus. He was born to oppose Pluto. That's why we know him in particular."

Reyna frowned. "Indeed? You sound _quite_ familiar with him."

Nico picked at the edge of his toga. "Anyway… the giants were hard to kill. According to the prophecy, they could only be defeated by gods and demigods working together."

Dakota belched. "Sorry, did you say gods and demigods… like fighting side by side? That could never happen!"

"Actually Dakota, they did during the first Giant war," I said a wave of memory of ancient stories ran through my head and the burning sensation from my new tattoos returned, "In fact, your own father: now known as Lord Bacchus, was a demigod himself who fought alongside the Olympians against two giants and earned his place among the Olympians."

Dakota along with a few veterans who I guess were either demigods or legacies of Bacchus, shifted around. There were even a few Lares who disappeared.

"And it wasn't just lord Bacchus," I continued. "Hercules himself was called into battle and aided the Olympians to destroy many of the giants—including Alcyoneus. Right Nico?"

Nico nodded. "That's right. It was difficult as Alcyoneus was thought to impossible to kill by god and demigod. But Hercules learned that Alcyoneus was only immortal as long as he's in his home territory—the place where he was born—which at the time was Greece, Hercules was able used to his advantage by removing the giant from Greece."

Nico paused for a bit. "But Percy, if the rules apply for him being reborn in Alaska—that could still be a problem."

"He wouldn't be able to be defeated," Hazel stated. "Ever. By any means. Which is why our nineteen-eighties expedition was doomed to start."

"That's because they didn't have the greatest heroes from their generation," I said.

"Oh, here we go again," Octavian said.

"When Lord Bacchus and Hercules help the Olympians defeated the Giants they became so great as heroes they earned immortality," I said. "Mars Ultor said that Frank, Hazel and I are destined to be great heroes as well. The fact that he's sending us to Alaska only confirms that our path to our destiny starts with the defeat of Alcyoneus in order to free Thantos and save the camp."

Half of the crowd cheered while the other half yelled and complained.

"Silence!" Reyna called—although I could tell from her expression she was impressed.

"It's still not that easy, Percy," Nico said, "Even if we free Thantos, there's still the situation about the Doors of Death being open. The Doors of Death are personal doors of Thantos, his fast lane between Life and Death. Only Thantos is supposed to know where they are, and the location shifts over the ages. And if Gaea has seized control over the dead she can pick and choose who to let out—the worst monsters, the evilest souls. If we rescue Thantos, that means at least he can catch souls again and send them below. Monsters will die when we kill them, like they used to, and we'll get a little breathing room. But unless we're able to retake the Doors of Death, our enemies won't stay down for long. They'll have an easy way back to the world of the living. They'll be back."

"But Thantos knows where the doors are, right? If we find him, he can retake them," Frank said.

"I don't think so," Nico said. "Not alone. He's no match for Gaea. That would take the massive quest… an army of the best demigods."

"The seven greatest heroes of our generation… possibly ever known," I said.

Reyna's eyes widened as fear struck her. "The Prophecy of Seven…" She looked at me as if seeing the connections of the line I remember. "If this begins the ancient prophecy, we don't have any resources to send an army to these Doors of Death _and_ protect the camp. I can't imagine even sparing seven demigods—"

"I'm certain the other four will appear when the time is right for us to assemble," I stated. "But first thing first, we still have the quest on hand: to free Thantos and getting back by Feast of Fortuna."

"Do you have a plan for that?" Octavian asked. "Because before you were just spouting out what needed to be done."

I looked at my teammates. Too be honest, I wanted to follow Annabeth's advice to stay put, but I can't leave these two on their own. Instead I made a silent vow to find Annabeth after the Feast of Fortuna. "We go to Alaska as fast as possible…"

"And we improvise," Hazel said.

"A lot." Frank said in a small voice.

Reyna studied us with a scared look.

"Very well," she said. "Nothing remains except for us to vote what support we can give the quest—transportation, money, magic, weapons."

"Praetor, if I may," Octavian said.

"Well for starters, a boat would due," I interrupted.

"A boat?" Octavian asked.

"That's right. Hazel told me Romans don't like using sea travel but does use it if needed. And since the enemy is invaded by land, then we can travel by sea and spare the camp any chariot, giant eagles, pegasus, and war elephant they have," I said. "Also the recommended Roman gear for the three of us would do. Armor, _pilum_ , _gladius_ —just enough stuff to support the three of us. As for magic, I think I proven during the War Games that I can handle that."

"That's right!" Frank jumped to his feet. "Percy can manipulate the Mist with a snap of his fingers."

There were many murmurs most of which was from one of the first senator and both second cohort senators talking about how it was strange they were called to the south wall.

"Just give each of us a Ziploc of ambrosia and canteen of nectar and we can make do with the rest," I said.

"Praetor, this is ridiculous!" Octavian said.

"No, it's fair," Reyna said, "They're not asking for much, and it will spare us all the supplies. Let's put it in a vote. Senators, motion is as follows: the quest shall go to Alaska. The senate shall provide full access to the Roman navy docked at Alameda. Only basic Roman gear and a _Ziploc_ of ambrosia and canteen of nectar will be supplied. Nothing else. All in favor."

Hands from all senators from third fourth and fifth rose.

"All appose."

Only the remaining senators from second and first rose."

"Motion pass." Reyna turned to Frank. "Centurion, your party is excused. The senate has other matters to discuss. And, Octavian, if I may confer with you for a moment."

…

I was so glad to see the sunlight after leaving the dark senate hall I wanted to stretch my hands and thank Apollo out loud. But to save me the embarrassment I just took a deep breath of fresh air and thanked Apollo silently. For some reason I had a feeling that if I did it out loud Apollo would want me to show how grateful I was by writing a poem on how great he was.

Hazel picked up a large emerald from the path and slipped it in her pocket. "We're so toast."

Frank nodded miserably.

"Relax guys," I responded. "At least I got us the supply we needed."

"Yeah, if Octavian had his way, we would probably only leave with a boat," Frank said.

Hazel made a grunting sound at the reminder of it.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, fine," Hazel replied.

We were only halfway across the forum when someone called, "Percy!"

I turned and saw it was Gwen jogging toward us.

"Gwen, hey, I been minding to thank you for what you did for Frank and me back there," I said.

"No problem. I was planning to go to college anyways, but with the recent monster activities I've been pushing it back," Gwen said. "Plus, the way you spoke in there, I say you deserved it."

Frank and Hazel patted me on the back as if agreeing with her.

"Anyways, Reyna wanted me to deliver a message to you," Gwen said. "She wants you report to the _principia_. Reyna will meet you there after the senate adjourns." Gwen turned to Hazel and Frank. "She'd like a private word with you alone before you leave on your quest."

"What about?" I asked.

"I don't know," Gwen said. "Just be grateful I took delivered it instead of Octavian. That guy tends to break people who opposed him before they go on their quest."


	15. Percy's POV Part VII

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

Sorry for reposting this chapter, but I had to add something at the end.

* * *

 **Percy's POV Part VII**

I grabbed my thermos and Riptide after leaving the city limits—which I didn't really need to grab both since Riptide returns to my pocket but I grabbed it since I was there.

Also, it was a good thing I had the mark of Achilles, because judging from Reyna's expression, I might need invulnerability.

She stormed into the _principia_ with her cloak billowing, and her greyhounds at her feet. I was sitting cross legged on the ground trying to think things over—mostly trying to remember where my weak point was so that I didn't just ask for armor for no reason. I got up when she came in, only for Reyna to roll the other praetor chair over to where I was at.

"Sit!" Reyna growled.

"Yes ma'am!" I sat down on the praetor chair which was rather comfortable.

"You leave after lunch," Reyna stated. "We have much to discuss."

She plunk down her dagger so hard the jelly bean bowl rattled. Aurum and Argentum took their post on her left and right side and fixed their ruby eyes on me.

I started to speak: "If I said anything wrong or spoke out of term in the senate meeting, I want to say—"

"It's not you," Reyna scowled. "I _hate_ senate meetings. When Octavian gets talking he seem to have power over me. At least until today when you spoke up. At first I thought you were just a warrior, but clearly in that senate meeting, you were a speaker too."

"Thanks—I think," I said. "It probably does me no good though if Octavian gets elected praetor if the camp survives."

"Which brings us to the subject of doomsday," Reyna said, "and how you might help prevent it. But before I place the fate of Camp Jupiter in your hands, I feel I should return an old favor."

"An old favor?" I asked.

Reyna sat down and put a ring on the table—a band of silver etched with a sword-and-torch design, like Reyna's tattoo.

"Do you know what this is?"

"The sign of your mom," I said. "Bellona: the goddess of war."

"Yes," Reyna replied. "You don't remember where you saw this ring before? You really don't remember me or my sister, Hylla? You don't remember saving our lives from pirates?"

I shook my head, "I'm sor—wait, I saved you from pirates?"

"Yes, exactly four years ago," Reyna said.

"Just before you came to camp."

Reyna frowned. "How did you—?"

"You got four stripes on your tattoo. Four years," I said.

Reyna looked at her forearm. "Of course. It seems so long ago. Anyways, as I said before, I decided to return the favor for what you did for Hylla and me by sharing about the day we met."

"So we did meet before?" I asked.

"Yes, and I only kept it from you until now because you saved my sister and me only after you and that other one, Annabeth, destroy our home by releasing pirates on it."

"Wait what?" I asked.

"But after the senate meeting, I decided I should trust you," Reyna said. "But not many people at camp think they should. Octavian especially. He thinks you're a spy sent here by Gaea to find our weaknesses and distract us. He believes the old Greek legends."

"Old Greek Legends?"

Reyna's hand rested halfway between her dagger and the jelly beans.

"Some believe Greek demigods still exist," she said, "heroes who follow the older forms of the gods. There are legends of battles between Roman and Greek heroes in relatively modern times—the American Civil War for instance. I have no proof of this, and if our Lares know anything, they refuse to say. But Octavian believes the Greeks are still around, plotting our downfall, working with the forces of Gaea. He thinks you are one of them."

That was hard to swallow, but some part of me agreed on there being Greek heroes, but not the rest. At least, not now.

"Is that what you believe?" I asked.

"I believe you came from _somewhere_ ," she said. "You're important and possibly dangerous. Two gods have taken a special interest in you since you arrived. And your behavior around Mars didn't make you look good. I just hope you'd work for Olympus and Rome instead against. Most importantly, I hope you were sent here to make up for the loss of Jason."

"You mean like what Hazel said about me carrying on Jason's will?" I asked.

"Sort of," Reyna said.

"The way you talk about him it sounded like you two were a couple," I said.

Reyna's eyes bored into me—like the eyes of a hungry wolf, and believe me, I seen enough of that.

"We might have been," Reyna said. "given time. Praetors work closely together. It's common for them to become romantically involved. But Jason was only praetor for a few months before he disappeared. Ever since, Octavian been pestering me, agitating for new elections. I've resisted. I need a partner in power—but I prefer a warrior like Jason. Even if that warrior is also a speaker, as long as they speak of what's right for everyone."

She waited and I realized she was sending me a silent invitation.

"Whoa, wait—you don't supposedly mean me, do you?" I sked.

"I believe the gods sent you to help me," Reyna said. "I don't understand where you come from, any more than I understood in four years ago. But I think you were send here to save my current home. I don't hold a grudge against you since you save me, Percy. My sister might think otherwise since you left us without a home for a while, but Fate brought me here to Camp Jupiter. I've done well. All I ask is that you work with me for the future. I intend to save this camp."

The metal dogs glared at me, their mouths frozen in snarl mode. I found it a lot harder to meet Reyna's eyes.

"Look, I'll help and I agree that Octavian shouldn't have the praetor's seat," I promised. "But I'm new here. Surely there's someone more qualified than me. What about Hazel and Frank?"

"Please," Reyna said. "No one will follow a child of Pluto. There's something about that girl… rumors about where she came from… No, she won't do. As for Frank Zhang, he has a good heart, better than most children of Mars I'll admit, but he's hopelessly naïve and inexperienced. Besides, if the others found out about his family history at this camp—"

"Family history?"

"The point is, Percy, _you_ are the real power on this quest. _You_ are a seasoned veteran. I've seen what you can do, both in the battlefield and in front of a senate. A son of Neptune wouldn't be my first choice, but if you returned successfully from this mission, the legion might be saved. The praetorship will be yours for the taking. Together, you and I could expand the power of Rome. We could raise an army and find the Doors of Death, crush Gaea forces once and for all. You would find me very helpful… friend."

She said that word like it could have several meanings, and I could pick which one.

I started tapping my feet on the ground very anxious. "Reyna, I'm honored. I really am. But I've got a girlfriend."

I explained to Reyna as best as I could about how I remember Annabeth and was scared of losing my memory of her if I told someone. Reyna looked pain but since her dogs weren't attacking me, she nodded.

"I'm willing to be friends with you, and if I do take the praetorship—and that's a _big_ if—I can consider you as a sister at most. But right now, I don't feel right about taking Jason's position when we're not even sure if he's alive. So unless the legion lifts me up by their shields after a battle, I'll have to turn down the offer," I said.

"A man who turns down power," Reyna said. "Not very Roman, I guess we can see if you would be raised on shields if time comes. And with the invasion coming, it might come. As for your offer of friendship and seeing each other as siblings, I'll take it if I have too. But Percy, you must understand. Things are worse than you realize."

I remember what Frank said about monster attacks getting more frequent. "How bad?"

Reyna's nails dug into the table. "Even the senate doesn't know the whole truth. I've asked Octavian not to share his auguries, or we have mass panic. He's seen a great army marching south, more than we can possibly defeat. They're led by a giant, possibly one of Alcyoneus' siblings."

"Makes sense. He wouldn't risk leaving Alaska and his invulnerability," I said.

"Says the one that bares the Mark of Achilles," Reyna said. "Have you figured out where your vulnerable spot is at?"

"I think so," I said. "If I'm right, it should be safe if I'm wearing armor."

"Good," Reyna said. "It might be the only advantage you have over Alcyoneus. He won't expect a Roman bearing a Greek Blessing."

I think he already does, I thought to myself.

"As for us, Lupa and her wolves are trying to slow the enemy down," Reyna said, "but this force is too strong even for them."

"Because only a god and demigod can destroy a giant," I said, "Lupa is immortal, but unless she has a demigod under her training—"

"There's only so much she can do," Reyna said. "The enemy will be here soon—by the Feast of Fortuna at latest."

"But we have Terminus," I said, "Statue form or not, he's a god right?"

Reyna nodded. "He is, but because of the form he's in, Terminus can't move to the battlefield, and I won't be surprise if the enemy has a plan to destroy the camp before reaching the city limits. Right now, our best chance of succeeding, even with Terminus, is if you release Death and bring the eagle back before the invasion starts."

"I take it it's not our only chance though," I said.

Reyna nodded as she slid her silver ring across the table. "My sister Hylla is in Seattle. Your journey should take you close to there. I want you to find her."

"Is that all?" I asked sarcastically.

Reyna rolled her eyes. "There is a chance she would love to kill you. But show her that ring as a token from me, and she may help you instead."

 _"May?"_

"I can't speak for her. In fact…" Reyna frowned. "In fact I haven't spoken to her in weeks. She's gone silent. With these armies passing through—"

"You want me to check on her," I guessed, "Make sure she's okay."

"Partially, yes. I can't imagine she's been overcome. My sister has a powerful force. Her territory is well defended. But if you can find her, she could offer you valuable help. It could mean the difference between success and failure on your quest. And if you tell her what's happening here—"

"She might help, got it," I said as I took the ring. "So where in Seattle I would find your sister? What kind of force does she have?"

"Don't worry. Just go to Seattle. They'll find you."

That didn't sound reassuring, but I went ahead and slip the ring on my leather necklace with my beads and _Legionnaire_ tablet. "Wish me luck."

"Fight well, Percy Jackson," Reyna said. "And thank you."

I could tell the audience was over. Reyna was having trouble holding herself together as the confident commander. Obviously the idea of the camp being invaded while she was left alone as praetor was too much for her and she needed some time by herself.

But at the door I stopped. There was something else I needed to check.

"Reyna, you said I destroyed your home with pirates before I saved you, how did I do that?"

The metal greyhounds growled. Reyna snapped her fingers to silence them.

"The pirates were prisoners of a mistress my sister and I worked at," she said. "They would of actually had Hylla and me cornered when you blasted them away with your thermos and offered your own boat to help us escape."

"Well, if it means anything, I'm sorry for destroying your home," I said.

Reyna gazed at me for a long time, as if trying to translate my words. "An apology? Not very Roman at all, Percy Jackson. You'll make an interesting praetor."


	16. Percy's POV Part VIII

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

Sorry for reposting this chapter, but I had to add something at the end.

* * *

 **Percy's POV Part VIII**

Lunch felt like a funeral party. Everybody ate. People talked in hush tones. Nobody seemed particularly happy. The other campers kept glancing over at me like I was the corpse of honor.

Reyna made a brief speech wishing us luck. Octavian ripped open a Beanie Baby and pronounced grave omens and hard times ahead, but predicted the camp would be saved by an unexpected hero (whose initials were probably OCTAVIAN). Then the other campers went off to their afternoon classes—a dozen activities like: Gladiator fighting, Latin lessons, paintball with ghost, eagle training, and sword fighting.

Dakota handed each a duffle containing our armor along with a pilum for each of us and a gladius for Frank.

That didn't improve my mood when I heard the last one. Today was supposed to be my first lesson as assistant sword fighting instructor, and instead of teaching demigods how to fight with swords, I'm following Hazel and Frank to the barracks to pack for the quest.

I didn't have much. I'd cleaned up my backpack from my trips south and transfer them to my hiker's bag.

I had a fresh pair of jeans and an extra purple T-shirt from the camp quarter master, plus a canteen of nectar, ambrosia, snacks, a little mortal money and camping supplies. I also packed my dog whistle in my pack. I decided it was best I wear my breast plate and manipulated the Mist to make it look like a jock's swim team jacket except gold my camp T-shirt. At lunch, Reyna handed me a scroll of introductions from the praetor and camp senate. Supposedly, any retired legionnaires we met on the trip would help us if we show them the letter. I also kept my leather necklace with the beads, the silver ring, and the _Legionnaire_ tablet, and of course I still have my thermos strapped to my belt and Riptide in my pocket.

I folded my tattered orange T-shirt and left it on my bunk.

"I'll be back," I said as I thought of Annabeth, "I'm not leaving for good. But I have to help these guys. They took me in. They deserve to survive."

…

One of our roommates, Bobby gave us a ride to the border of the valley on Hannibal the elephant. From the hill tops, I could see everything below. The Little Tiber snaked across the golden pastures where the unicorns were grazing. The temples and forums of New Rome gleamed in the sunlight. On the Field of Mars, engineers were hard at work, pulling down the remains of last night's fort and setting up barricades for a game of death ball. A normal day for Camp Jupiter—but on the norther horizon, storm clouds were gathering. Shadows moved across the hills, and I imagined the face of Gaea getting closer and closer.

I remember my conversation with Reyna, how it seemed she was desperate enough to protect the camp that she was willing to share with me info that she wouldn't even let Octavian shared. Too be honest I want to protect this camp from the invasion. They took me in and I feel like it was my duty to protect it. Most importantly, I see a possible future for me and Annabeth here.

We got off Hannibal and Bobby wished us a safe journey. Hannibal wrapped Frank Hazel and me with his trunk before he and Bobby headed back into the valley.

I sighed and turned to Hazel and Frank and tried to think of something upbeat to say.

Sadly, I didn't get the chance as a familiar voice said, "IDs, please."

A statue of Terminus appeared at the summit of the hill. The god's face frowned irritably. "Well? Come along!"

"You watch over the boarders too?" I asked.

Terminus huffed. "Glad to see you, too. And yes, for international departures, I like to provide extra security at the camp borders. You really should've allowed two hours before your planned departure time, you know. But we'll have to make do. Now, come over here so I can pat you down."

"But you don't—" I stopped myself, reminding myself that Terminus was our best chance against the Giant leading the invasion and it might not be a good idea to anger him. "Uh, sure."

I stood next to the armless statue.

I guess Terminus can mentally perform a pat down or something because after a few minutes he said. "You seemed to be clean," Terminus decided, "I must admit, using the Mist to hide your breast plate as a golden jacket is a nice touch. I would think Trivia herself would be impressed. Very well. Percy Jackson, Fifth Cohort, son of Neptune. Fine go."

Hazel went next.

"Hazel Levesque, daughter of Pluto. Any foreign currency or, ahem, precious metals to declare?"

"No," she muttered.

"Are you sure?" Terminus asked. "Because last time—"

"No!"

"Well, this is a grumpy bunch," said the god. "Quest travelers! Always in a rush. Now, let's see—Frank Zhang. Ah! Centurion? Well done, Frank. And that haircut is regulation perfect. I approve! Off you go, then, Centurion Zhang. Do you need any directions today?"

"No. No, I guess not."

"Just down to the BART station," Terminus said anyway. "Change trains at Twelfth Street in Oakland. You want Fruitvale Station. From there, you can walk or take the bus to Alameda. Travel safely, and watch out for Polybotes. Talk about scofflaws—bah! I wish I could throttle him with my bare hands."

Polybotes—where did I hear that name before?

Then it clicked in my brain and I had a sudden dread. "Wait—don't  
mean—" I asked.

"Ah yes, Polybotes," Terminus said regarding my question. "You must be careful of him. I imagine he can smell a son of Neptune a mile away. Out you go, now. Good luck."

An invisible force kicked us across the boundary. When I looked back, Terminus along with the entire valley was gone. The Berkeley Hills seemed to be free of any Roman camp.

"Percy, do you have any idea what Terminus was talking about?" Hazel asked.

I tried to mask my dread and decided to stretch the truth from what Reyna told me. After all, if I'm right, Polybotes would be leading the attack on camp.

"Polybotes is the bane of Neptune—the giant anti-Neptune," I said. "According to stories, he has the power to turn water into poison and create snakes called Baskelisk. My dad and Hercules worked together in defeating him, which they were only able to do when my dad hurled an island at him."

"Great, so we have Polybotes and Alcyoneus to fight," Frank muttered.

I could tell that our morality was lower than before. "Let's not worry about that now until we come across Polybotes or when we get close to Alcyoneus' location," I suggested. "Come on, we better get going before monsters are able to track us down."

…

It took us two hours to reach the docks in Alameda. Compared to my last few months, the trip was easy. None of the monsters have attack yet. Nobody looked at me like a homeless wild child.

Frank and Hazel had the same duffle bag as me which made it easier for Frank stored his spear, bow, and quiver Hazel to store her cavalry sword.

Both must have been feeling dread of the idea of dealing with two giants because before we got to the train station Frank and Hazel decided to follow my example and wear their armor which I used the Mist to disguise them. Frank's breast plate now looked like a golden sleeveless hooded, and Hazel's look dress vest over her shirt. Needless to say we looked like three first class high school students that like to show off a school's golden colors getting ready for a big.

We walked to Rockridge Station, bought our tickets with mortal money, and hopped on the BART train.

We got off in Oakland where we had to walk through some rough neighborhoods, but nobody bothered us. I may not have all my memories, but I know from my time at the Wolf House that I had a mean glare. Lupa use to say it was good in human terms but it could be better, and so she taught me how to combine with what I call as a wolf stare.

Now whenever any tries to cause me trouble—namely gangsters—I just give them a look that say: _However bad you think you are, I'm worse_ , and they backed away immediately. After strangling a sea monster and fighting Gorgons for three days, no mortal gangster scares me.

In the late afternoon we made it to the Alameda docks. I couldn't help but look out over San Francisco Boy and breathed in the salty sea air. I felt better. For some reason I felt safer than when I was in Camp Jupiter—not that I would admit it to Hazel and Frank. How can I not though? This was my father's domain. Here I feel stronger than I remember ever feeling and I got the feeling that as long as we're at sea, my dad will look after us.

Dozens of boats were moored at the docks—everything from fifty foot yachts to ten-foot fishing boats. I scanned the slips for some sort of ship or at least a descent boat. Anything would work for me as long as it floats. I quickly realize I had no idea what I was looking for.

"Do you guys know what we're looking for?" I asked.

Hazel and Frank shook their heads.

"I didn't even know we _had_ a boat, much less a navy." Hazel sounded as if she wish there wasn't one.

Now that I think about it, it probably makes sense. Hazel was the daughter of Pluto, and sure Pluto and Neptune aren't as big rivals as Neptune is with Jupiter, but I can't shake this feeling that it still wouldn't be easy for any child of Pluto to travel through Neptune's domain. Plus, being Romans probably doesn't help since Romans don't respect him.

There was nothing we could do now, and I can't help but shake this feeling that flying in Jupiter's domain wouldn't be much safer for the both of us. At least, not without a child of Jupiter flying with us.

"Don't worry," I said. "Don't forget, Neptune is my dad, and as long as you and Frank are traveling by sea with me, Neptune won't try anything."

Judging from Hazel's expression dealing with Neptune himself was the least of her problems.

"Oh…" Frank pointed. "You don't think…?"

At the end of the dock was a tiny boat, covered in a purple tarp. Embroidered in faded gold along the canvas was _S.P.Q.R._

"You got to be kidding me," I responded.

I uncovered the boat, my hands working with the knots like I'd been doing this my whole life. Under the tarp was an old steel rowboat with no oars (Seriously? Romans should at least supply they rowboats with oars). The boat had been pained dark blue at one point, but the hull was so crusted with tar and salt it looked like one massive nautical bruise.

On the bow, the name _Pax_ was still readable, lettered in gold. Painted eyes drooped sadly at the water level, as if the boat were about to fall asleep. On board were two benches, some steel wool, an older cooler, and a mound of frayed rope with one end tied to the mooring. At the bottom of the boat, aplastic bag and two empty Coke cans floated in several inches of scummy water.

"Behold, Frank said. "The mighty Roman Navy."

"There's got to be a mistake," Hazel said. "This is a piece of junk."

I could imagine Octavial laughing at us, but a part of me is thinking: the jokes on him. No matter what condition the _Pax_ is, it's still a boat, and oars or no oars, my gut told me I could still get it moving in the water.

I jumped aboard, and the hull hummed under ma feet, responding to my presence. I gathered up the garbage in the cooler and put it on the dock. At that point my instincts took over as I went to work. I willed the scummy water to flow over the sides and out of the boat. Then I pointed at the steel wool and if flew across the floor, scrubbing and polishing so fast the steel began to smoke. Once the ship was clean, I pointed at the rope, and it untied itself from the dock. Once I was done with all that, I could sense the boat was ready to move as it waited for my command.

"This'll do," I said. "Hop in."

Hazel and Frank stared at me with stunned expressions, but they climbed aboard. Hazel seemed especially nervous. When we had settled in our seats, I concentrated, and the boat slipped away from the dock.

 _Juno was right, you know_. The sleepy voice of Gaea whispered in my mind, startling me so bad the boat rocked. _You could have chosen a new life in the sea. You would have been safe from me there. Now it's too late. You chosen your path, and now you're an important pawn._

 _Get off my ship_ , I thought to the voice as I growled.

"Percy, are you okay?" Frank asked.

"Yeah," I said. "Let's see what this rowboat can do."

I turned the boat north and in no time we were speeding along at fifteen knots, heading for the Golden Gate Bridge.


	17. Hazel's POV Part V

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

Sorry for reposting this chapter, but I had to add something at the end.

* * *

 **Hazel's POV Part V**

I hate boats.

I got seasick so easily, it was more like a plague.

It was nice of Percy to reassure me that Frank and I would be safe in his father's domain as long as we were with him, and I didn't have the heart to tell him about my sea sickness.

I also didn't want to mess up the quest, but I remembered how horrible my life had been when my mother and I had moved to Alaska—no roads. Everywhere we went, we'd had to take the train or a boat.

I hoped my condition might have improved since I'd come back from the dead. Obviously not. And this little boat, the _Pax_ , looked so much like the other boat we had in Alaska. It brought back bad memories…

As soon as we left the dock, my stomach started to churn. By the time we passed the piers along the San Francisco embarcadero, I felt so woozy I thought I was hallucinating. We sped past by a pack of sea lions lounging on the docks, and I swore I saw an old homeless guy sitting among them. From across the water, the old man pointed a bony finger at Percy and mouthed something like _Don't even think about it_.

"Did you see that?" I asked.

Percy's face was red in the sunset. "Yeah, I've been here before. I… I'm not sure, but I think it was before I made my journey to Camp Jupiter. I think I was looking for my girlfriend."

"Annabeth," Frank said. "What she lived here?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "Possibly but…" Percy frowned. "I think she also lived in Virginia at one time."

"It's possible she moved," I groaned.

"Yeah, maybe," I said.

I tried to settle my stomach by thinking of pleasant things—the euphoria I'd felt last night when we won the war games, riding Hannibal into the enemy keep, Percy's strange yet unique way of sword fighting (I later choose not to question it when Percy broke a pilum to remove it from Gwen), and Frank's sudden transformation into a leader. He'd looked like a different person when he scaled the walls, calling the Fifth Cohort to attack. The way he'd swept the defenders off the battlements… I had never seen him like that before. I was proud to pin it to his shirt.

Then my thoughts turned to Nico. Before we left, my brother pulled me aside to wish me luck and warned me that things might have changed in Alaska since I was last there—and he wasn't talking about Alcyoneus. Nico explained that there was a chance that the mortal residents in Alaska might have changed the towns in Alaska, possibly roads and new train tracks. I took Nico's word for it.

I had hope that Nico would stay at Camp Jupiter to help defend it, but he said he'd be leaving today—heading back to the Underworld.

"Dad needs all the help he can get," he said. "The Fields of Punishment look like a prison riot. The Furies can barely keep order. I wouldn't be surprise if Bianca and the other Hunters had cross paths with escapees already. I feel I should do the same. Maybe I can find the Doors of Death from the other side."

"Be careful," I said. "If Gaea is guarding those doors—"

"Don't worry," Nico smiled. "I know how to stay hidden. Just take care of yourself. The closer you get to Alaska… I'm not sure if it'll make the blackouts better or worse."

Take care of myself, I thought bitterly. As if there was any way the quest would end well for me.

"If we free Thantos," I told Nico. "How do we know Thantos won't send me back? If Percy is right—"

Nico took her hand. His fingers were so pale; it was hard to b believe we shared the same godly father.

"If Percy's right, the fates will find a way to keep you here to complete your destiny," Nico said. "Don't underestimate the Fates, Hazel. Not even the Big Three themselves could stop fate."

I nodded.

"Good luck, Hazel," he said. Then he melted into the shadows—just like her father had seventy years before.

The boat shuddered, jolting me back to the present. We entered the Pacific current and skirted the rocky coastline of Marin County. Frank's, Percy's, and my dufflebags laid under the benches of our boat.

Percy still had that worried look as he scan the area. He seemed cautious since finding out about Polybotes. I guess I don't blame him. At first we thought Alcyoneus was our main concern on this quest. Sure it occurred to me that there might be a second giant that would lead the invasion on Camp, but too find out that it was a giant meant to destroy another one of the Big Three wasn't exactly good news, especially if it's the Bane of Neptune.

Frank looked rather calm. Although that quickly passed when he looked at me.

"You okay?" Frank asked. "You look queasy."

"Seasickness," I confessed. "I didn't think it would be this bad."

Frank pouted like it was somehow his fault. He started digging through his pack. "I've got some nectar. And some crackers. Um, my grandmother says ginger helps… I don't have that, but—"

"It's okay," I mustered a smile. "That's sweet of you, though."

Frank pulled out a saltine. It snapped in his big fingers. Cracker exploded everywhere.

Hazel laughed. "Gods, Frank… Sorry. I shouldn't laugh."

"Uh, no problem," he said sheepishly. "Guess you don't want that one."

Percy wasn't paying much attention. He kept his eyes fixed on the shoreline. As we passed Stinson Beach, he pointed inland, where a single mountain rose above the green hills.

"That looks familiar," he said.

"Mount Tam," Frank said. "Kids at camp are always talking about it. Big battle happened on the summit, at the old Titan base."

Percy frowned. "Were either of you there?"

"No," I said. "That was back in August, before I—um, before I got to camp. Jason told me about it. The legion destroyed the enemy's palace and about a million monsters. Jason had to battle Krios—hand-to-hand combat with a Titan, if you can imagine."

"I can imagine it," Percy muttered.

I wasn't sure what he meant, but Percy _did_ reminded me of Jason, and not just because he can talk with such confidence like Jason did. They had the same aura of quite power, plus a kind of sadness, like they'd seen their destiny and knew it was only a matter of time before they met a monster they couldn't beat.

Only difference was that Percy also had a look that told me until that day comes, planned to try and enjoy the little moments. Like he already seen someone lived the moment he fears, and he wanted to make his time alive count.

I wish I can feel that. As I watch the sun set in the ocean, I can't help but wonder if this moment to when we free Thantos will be my last days of life and if I will live to see the Feast of Fortuna.

I thought about my first death, and the months leading up to it—my house in Seward, the six months we spent in Alaska, taking that little boat into Resurrection Bay at night, visiting that cursed island.

I realized mistake too late. My vision went black, and I slipped back in time.

…

Our rental house was a clapboard box suspended on pilings over the bay. When the train from Anchorage rolled by, the furniture shook and the pictures rattled on the walls. At night, I fell asleep to the sound of icy water lapping against the rocks under the floorboards. The wind made the building creak and groan.

We had one room, with a hot plate and an icebox for a kitchen. One corner was curtained off for me, where I kept my mattress and storage chest. I'd pinned my drawings and old photos of New Orleans on the walls, but that only made my homesickness worse.

My mother was rarely home. She didn't go by Queen Marie anymore. She was just Marie, the hired help. She'd cooked and clean all day at the diner on Third Avenue for fisherman, railroad workers, and the occasional crew of navy men. She come home smelling like Pine-Sol and fried fish.

At night, Marie Levesque would transform. The Voice took over, giving me orders, putting me to work on our horrible project.

Winter was the worst. The Voice stayed longer because of the constant darkness. The cold was so intense, I thought I would never be warm again.

When summer came, I couldn't get enough sun. Every day of summer vacation, I stayed away from home as long as I could, but I couldn't walk around town. It was a small community. The other kids spread rumors about me—the witch's child who lived in the old shack by the docks. If I came too close, the kids jeered at me or threw bottles and rocks. The adults weren't much better.

I could've made our lives miserable. I could've given them diamonds, pearls, or gold. Up here in Alaska, gold was easy. There was so much in the hills, I could've buried the town without half trying. But I didn't really hate the locals for pushing me away. I couldn't blame them.

I spent the day walking the hills. I attracted ravens. They'd caw at me from the trees and wait for the shiny things that always appeared in my footsteps. The curse never seemed to bother them. I saw brown bears, too, but they kept their distance. When I got thirsty, I'd find a snow melt waterfall and drink cold, clean water until my throat hurts. I'd climbed as high as I could and let the sunshine warm my face.

Once in a while I would see a dozen blue giants with icy-gray hair that were thirty feet tall that I learned were called Hyperborean giants. At first when I saw one, I thought it would kill me, but I later learn that they were peaceful and didn't mean any harm. Unless, of course, they were provoke, which I don't do.

I also learned from my first few days to avoid boggy soil known as muskeg. They were marshy silt and decompose plants that made the surface look solid, but was worse than quicksand as it was impossible to escape. Fortunately, after learning about them, I decided when I hike, I would bring a walking stick to poke at any suspicious looking ground to make sure if it was Muskeg or not.

It wasn't a bad way to pass the time, but I knew eventually I'd have to go home.

Sometimes I thought about my father—that strange pale man in the silver-and-black suit. I wished he'd come back and protected me from my mother, maybe use his powers to get rid of that awful Voice. If he was a god, he should be able to do that.

I looked up at the ravens and imagine they were his emissaries. Their eyes were dark and maniacal, like his. I wondered if they reported my movements to my father.

But Pluto had warned my mother about Alaska. It was a land beyond the gods. He couldn't protect them here. If he was watching me, he didn't speak to me. I often wondered if I had imagined him. My old life seemed as distant as the radio programs I listen to, or President Roosevelt talking about the war. Occasionally the locals would discuss the Japanese and some fighting on the outer islands of Alaska, but even that seemed far away—not nearly as scary as my problem.

One day in midsummer, I stayed out later than usual, chasing a horse.

I'd first seen it when I heard a crunching sound behind me. When I turned, I saw a gorgeous tan roan stallion with a black mane—just like the one I'd ridden during my last day in New Orleans, when Sammy had taken me to the stables. It could've been the same horse, though that was impossible. It was eating something off the path that looked a lot like the gold nuggets that always appeared in my wake.

"Hey, fella," I called.

The horse looked at me warily.

I figured it must belong to someone. It was too well groomed, its coat too sleek for a wild horse. If I could get close enough… What? She could find its owner? Return it?"

No, I thought. I just want to ride again.

I was within ten feet from the horse when it bolted. I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to catch it—getting maddeningly close before it ran away again.

I lost track of time, which was easy to do with the summer sun staying up so long. Finally, I stopped at a creek for a drink and looked at the sky, thinking it must be around three in the afternoon. Then I heard a train whistle from down in the valley and realized it must be the evening run to Anchorage, which meant it was ten at night.

I glared at the horse, who was grazing peacefully across the creek. "Are you trying to get me in trouble?"

The horse whinnied. Then it sped away in a blur of black and tan, faster than a forked lightning—almost too quick for my eyes to register. I don't understand how, but the horse was _definitely_ gone.

I stared at the spot where the horse had stood. A wisp of steam curled from the ground, as I started wondering if I imagined the whole thing.

The train whistle echoed through the hills again, and I realized how much trouble I was in as I rushed home.

My mother wasn't there. For a second I felt relieved. Maybe my mom had had to work late. Maybe tonight we wouldn't have to make the journey.

Then I saw the wreckage. My curtains were pulled down. My storage chest was open and my few clothes strewn across the floor. My mattress had been shredded as if a lion had attacked it. My colored pencils were all broken. Pluto's birthday gift, my only luxury, had been destroyed. This is not a good.

Then I noticed the note pinned to the wall. It was written in red on the last piece of drawing paper. What's worse was that the writing was not my mother's as it said: _Wicked girl. I'm waiting at the island. Don't disappoint me_.

I sobbed in despair as I wanted to ignore the summons. I wanted to run away, but there was nowhere to go. Besides, my mother was trapped. The Voice had promised that they were almost done with their task. If I kept helping the Voice, my mother would be freed. I didn't trust the Voice, but I didn't see any other option.

I took the rowboat—a little skiff my mother had bought with a few gold nuggets from fisherman, who had a tragic accident with his net the next day. We had only one boat, but my mother seemed capable on occasion of reaching the island without any transportation. I learned a while back not to ask about that.

Even in midsummer, chunks of ice swirled in Resurrection Bay. Seals glided by my boat, looking at me hopefully, sniffing for fish scraps that I never had. In the middle of the bay, the glistening back of a whale rake the surface, and at a nearby mountain, a Hyperborean was sleeping—using the mountain as a pillow.

As always, the rocking of the boat made her stomach queasy. I stopped once to be sick over the side. The sun was finally going down over the sleeping Hyperborean and mountain, turning the sky blood red.

I rowed toward the bay's mouth. After several minutes, I turned and look ahead. Right in front of me, out of the fog, the island materialized—an acre of pine trees, boulders, and snow with a black sand beach.

If the island had a name, I didn't know it. Once I made a mistake of asking the townsfolk, but they ad stared at me like I was crazy.

"Ain't no island there," said one old fisherman, "or my boat would've run into it a thousand times."

I was about fifty yards from the shore when a raven landed on the boat's stern. It was a greasy black bird almost as large as an eagle. With a jagged beak like an obsidian knife.

Its eyes glittered with intelligence, so I wasn't much surprise when it talked.

"Tonight," it croaked. "The last night."

I let the oars rest as I tried to decide if the raven was warning me, or advising me, or making a promise.

"Are you from my father?" I asked.

The raven tilted its head. "The last night. Tonight."

It pecked the boat's prow and flew toward the island.

 _The last night,_ I told myself. I decided to take that as a promise. _No matter what she tells me, I will make this the last night._

That gave me enough strength to row on. The boat slid ashore, cracking through a fine layer of ice and black silt.

Over the months, my mother and I had worn a path from the beach into the woods. I hiked inland, careful to stick to the trail. The island was full of dangers, both natural and magical. Bears rustled in the undergrowth. Glowing white spirits, vaguely human, drifted through the trees. I didn't know what they were, but I knew they were watching me, hoping I would stray into their clutches.

At the center of the island, two massive black boulders formed the entrance of the tunnel. I made my way into the cavern I called the Heart of the Earth.

It was the only truly warm place I had found since moving to Alaska. The air smelled of freshly turned soil. The sweet, moist heat made me feel drowsy, but I fought to stay awake. I imagined that if I fell asleep here, my body would sink into the earthen floor and turn to mulch or worst—muskeg.

The cave was as large as a church sanctuary, like the St. Louis Cathedral back home on Jackson Square. The walls glowed with luminescent mosses—green, red, and purple. The whole chamber thrummed with energy, an echoing _boom, boom, boom_ that reminded me of a heartbeat. Some might think it was the sea waves battering the island, but I didn't think so. This place was alive. The earth was asleep, but it pulsated with power. Its dream was so malicious, so fitful, that I felt myself losing my grip on reality.

Gaea wanted to consume my identity, just as she'd overwhelmed my mother. She wanted to consume every human, god, and demigod that dared to walk across her surface.

 _You all belong to me,_ Gaea murmured like a lullaby. _Surrender. Return to the earth._

 _No,_ I thought. _I'm Hazel Levesque. You can't have me._

Marie Levesque stood over the pit. In the six months since we came to Alaska, her hair had turned as gray as lint, she'd lost weight, and her hands were gnarled from hard work. She wore snow boots and waders and a stained white shirt from the diner. She never would have been mistaken for a queen.

"It's too late." My mother's frail voice echoed through the cavern. I realized with a shock that it was _her_ voice—not Gaea's.

"Mother?"

Marie turned to me. Her eyes were open. She was awake and conscious. This should have made me feel relieved, but it made me nervous. The Voice had never relinquished control while we were on the island.

"What have I done?" my mother asked helplessly. "Oh, Hazel, what did I do to you?"

I stared in horror at the thing in the pit.

For months we'd been coming here, four or five nights a week as the Voice required. I had cried, I'd collapsed with exhaustion, I pleaded, I'd given in to despair. But the Voice that controlled my mother had urged me on relentlessly. _Bring valuables from the earth. Use your powers, child. Bring my most valuable possession to me._

At first, my efforts had brought only scorn. The fissure in the earth had filled with gold and precious stones, bubbling in thick soup of petroleum. It looked like a dragon's treasure dumped in a tar pit. Then slowly, a rock spire began to grow like a massive tulip bulb. It emerged so gradually, night after night, that I had trouble judging its progress. Often I concentrated all night on raising it, until mind and soul were exhausted, but I didn't notice any difference. Yet the spire _did_ grow. Now I could see how much I'd accomplished. The thing was two stories high, a swirl of rocky tendrils jutting like a spear tip from the oily morass. Inside, something glowed with heat. I couldn't see it clearly, but I knew what was happening. A body was forming out of silver and gold, with oil for blood and raw diamonds for a heart. I was resurrecting the son of Gaea. He was almost ready to wake.

My mother fell to her knees and wept. "I'm sorry, Hazel. I'm sorry." She looked helpless and alone, horribly sad.

I should have been furious.

 _Sorry?_

I'd lived in fear of my mother for years. I'd been scolded and blamed for my mother's unfortunate life. I'd been treated like a freak, dragged away from my home in New Orleans to this cold wilderness, where I would to see Sammy again, and worked like a slave by a merciless evil goddess.

 _Sorry_ didn't cut it. I should have despised my mother.

But I couldn't make myself do it.

I knelt down and put my arm around my mother. There was hardly anything left of her—just skin and bones and stained work clothes. Even in the warm cave, she was trembling.

"What can we do?" I asked. "Tell me how to stop it."

My mother shook her head. "She let me go. She knows it's too late. There's nothing we can do."

"She… the Voice?" I was afraid to get my hopes up, but if my mother was really freed, then nothing else mattered. We could get out of here. Maybe go back to New Orleans. "Is she gone?"

My mother glanced fearfully around the cave. "No, she's here. There's only one more thing she needs from me. For that, she needs my free will."

I didn't like the sound of that.

"Let's get out of here," I urged. "That thing in the rock… it's going to hatch."

"Soon," my mother agreed. She looked at me so tenderly… I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen that kind of affection in my mother's eyes. It was before my curse set in, I know that for sure. I felt a sob building in my chest.

"Pluto warned me," my mother said. "He told me my wish was too dangerous."

"Your—your wish?"

"All the wealth under the earth," she said. "He controlled it. I wanted it. I was so tired of being poor, Hazel. So tired. First I summoned him… just to see if I could. I never thought the old _gris-gris_ spell would work on a god. But he courted me, told me I was brave and beautiful…" She stared at her bent, calloused hands. "When you were born, he was so pleased and proud. He said he could tell you weren't like most of his previous children and was glad for it. He promised me anything. He swore on the River Styx. I asked for all the riches he had. He warned me the greediest wishes caused the greatest sorrows. But I insisted. I imagine living like a queen—the wife of a god! And you…you received the curse."

I felt as if I were expanding to the breaking point, just like that spire in the pit. My misery would soon become too great to hold inside, and my skin would shatter. "That's why I can find things under the earth?"

"And why they bring only sorrow." My mother gestured listlessly around the cavern. "That's how _she_ found me, how she was able to control me. I was angry with your father. I blamed him for my problems. I blamed you. I was so bitter, I listened to Gaea's voice. I was a fool."

"There's got to be something we can do," I said. "Tell me ow to stop her."

The ground trembled. Gaea's disembodied voice echoed through the cave.

 _My eldest rises,_ she said. _The most precious thing in the earth—and you brought him from the depths, Hazel Levesque. You have made him anew. His awakening cannot be stopped. Only one thing remains._

I clench my fists. I was terrified, but now that my mother was free, I felt like I could confront my enemy at last. This creature, tis evil goddess, ad ruined our lives. I wasn't going to let er win.

"I won't help you anymore!" I yelled.

 _But I am done with your help, girl. I brought you here for one reason only. Your mother required… incentive._

My throat constricted. "Mother?"

"I'm sorry, Hazel. If you can forgive me, please—know that it was only because I loved you. She promised to let you live if—"

"If _you_ sacrifice yourself," I said, realizing the truth. "She needs you to give your life willingly to raise that—that _thing_."

 _Alcyoneus,_ Gaea said. _Eldest of the giants. He must rise first, and this will be his new homeland—far from the gods. He will walk these icy mountains and forests. He will raise an army of monsters. While the gods are divided, fighting each other in this mortal World War, he will send forth his armies to destroy Olympus._

The earth goddess' dreams were so powerful, they cast shadows across the cave walls—ghostly shifting images of Nazi armies raging across Europe, Japanese planes destroying American cities. I finally understood. The gods of Olympus would take sides in the battle as they always did in human wars. While the gods fought each other in a bloody standstill, an army of monsters would rise in the north. Alcyoneus would revive is brother giants and send them forth to conquer the world. The weakened gods would fall. The mortal conflict would rage for decades until all civilization was swept away, and the earth goddess awaken fully. Gaea would rule forever.

 _All this,_ the goddess purred, _because your mother was greedy and cursed you with the gift of finding riches. In my sleepy state, I would have needed decades more, perhaps centuries, before I found the power to resurrect Alcyoneus myself. But now he will wake, and soon, so shall I!_

With terrible certainty, I knew what would happen next. The only thing Gaea needed was a willing sacrifice—a soul to be consumed for Alcyoneus to awaken. My mother would step into the fissure and touched that horrible spire—and she would be absorbed.

"Hazel, go." My mother rose unsteadily. "She'll let you live, but you must hurry."

The horrible part of it was that I believed it. Gaea would honor the bargain and let me live, only to see the world end with the idea that I caused it. So the question on my mind is, will I allow it.

"No." I made my decision. "I won't live. Not for that."

I reached deep into my soul. I called on my father, the Lord of the Underworld, and summoned all the riches that lay in his vast realm. The cavern shook.

Around the spire of Alcyoneus, oil bubbled, then churned and erupted like a boiling cauldron.

 _Don't be foolish_ , Gaea said, but I detected concern in her tone, maybe even fear. _You will destroy yourself for nothing! Your mother will die!_

I almost wavered. I remember my father's promise: someday my curse would be washed away; a descendant of Neptune would bring me peace. He'd even said I might find a horse of my own. Maybe that strange stallion in the hills was meant for me. But none of that would happen if I died now. I'd never see Sammy again, or returned to New Orleans (although I already guessed I wouldn't before I found out about this). My life would be thirteen short, bitter years with an unhappy ending.

I met my mother's eyes. For once, my mother didn't look sad or angry. Her eyes shone with pride.

"You were my gift, Hazel," she said. "My most precious gift. I was foolish to think I needed anything else."

She kissed my forehead and held me close. Her warmth gave me the courage to continue. We would die, but not as sacrifices to Gaea. Instinctively I knew that our final act would reject Gaea's power. Our souls would go to the Underworld, and Alcyoneus would not rise—at least not yet.

I summoned the last of my willpower. The air turned searing hot. The spire began to sink Jewels and chunks of gold shot from the fissure with such force, they cracked the cavern walls and sent shrapnel flying, stinging my skin through my jacket.

 _Stop this!_ Gaea demanded. _You cannot prevent his rise. At best, you will delay him—a few decades. Half a century. Would you trade your lives for that?_

I gave her my answer.

 _The last night_ , the raven had said.

The fissure exploded. The roof crumbled. I sank into my mother's arms, into the darkness, as oil filled my lungs and the island collapsed into the bay.


	18. Hazel's POV Part VI

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

Sorry for reposting this chapter, but I had to add something at the end.

* * *

 **Hazel's POV Part VI**

"Hazel!" Frank shook my arms, sounding panicked. "Come on, please! Wake up!"

I opened my eyes. The night sky blazed with stars. The rocking of the boat was gone. I was lying on solid ground, my pack with my gear was beside me.

I sat up groggily, my head was spinning. We were on a cliff overlooking a beach. About a hundred feet away, the ocean glinted in the moonlight. The surf washed gently against the stern of our beached boat. To my right, hugging the edge of the cliff, was a building like a small church with search light in the steeple. A lighthouse, I guessed. Behind us, fields of tall grass rustled in the wind.

"Where are we?" I asked.

Frank exhaled. "Thank the gods you're awake! We're in Mendocino, about a hundred and fifty miles north of the Golden Gate."

"A hundred and fifty miles?" I groaned. "I've been out _that_ long?"

Percy knelt beside me, the sea wind sweeping his hair. He put his hand on my forehead as if checking for a fever. "We couldn't wake you. Finally, we decided to bring you ashore. We thought maybe the seasickness—"

"It wasn't seasickness." I took a deep breath. I couldn't hide the truth from them anymore. I remember what Nico had said: _If a flashback like that happens when you're in combat…_

"I—I haven't been honest with you," she said. "What happened was a blackout. I have them once in a while."

"A blackout?" Frank took my hand, which startled me a pleasant way. "Is it medical? Why I haven't noticed before?"

"I try to hide it," I admitted. "I've been lucky so far, but it's getting worse. It's not medical… not really. Nico says it's a side effect from my past, from where he found me."

Percy furrowed his eye brows as his intense green eyes were full of confusion as if a thought flashed in his head for a second.

"Hazel, where did Nico find you exactly?" he asked.

My tongue felt like cotton. I was afraid if I started talking, I'd slip back into the past, but they deserved to know. If I failed them on this quest, zonked out when they needed me most… I couldn't bear that idea.

"I'll explain," I promised. I clawed through my pack. Stupidly, I'd forgotten to bring a water bottle. "Is… is there anything to drink?"

"Yeah, hold on," Percy said digging through his pack only to find he didn't have it. "Well that's weird. I thought I brought my supplies with me."

"What about your thermos?" Frank asked pointing to the thermos strapped to Percy's belt. "Can't you just small amount of water out of it or does it only summon water blast."

Percy frowned some more. "I don't know…"

Percy unstrapped his thermos and aimed both the lid and thermos to the ground and focus. At first water rushed out, but instead of a blast of it, it was more like water pouring out of a faucet really fast.

"Whoa slow it down!" Frank said.

Percy concentrated and sure enough the water did slow down and filled up the lid until it was full enough that Percy stopped it.

"Here," Percy handed the lid to me.

At first I took a small sip, half expecting it to taste like salt water, but it actually tasted like your average cold water.

"Thanks," I said.

"No problem." Percy said.

At that moment Frank seemed to realize he was still holding my hand. He cleared his throat and let go.

"So… I think I understand why Hazel blackout," Frank said. "And where you come from too, Hazel."

My heartbeat stumbled. "You do?"

Percy stayed quiet as he looked out in the grass as if something about it disturbed him.

"Yeah. Hazel, you seemed so different from other girls I've met." He blinked, then rushed on. "Not like… _bad_ different. Just the way you talk. The things that surprise you—like songs, or TV shows, or slang people use. You talk about your life like it happened a long time ago. You were born in a different time, weren't you? You came from the Underworld."

I wanted to cry—not because I was sad, but because it was such a relief to hear someone say the truth. Frank didn't act revolted or scared. He didn't look at me as if I were a ghost or some awful undead zombie. As for Percy, he was still focus on the grass, but his expression wasn't much different.

"So I take it from your silence, Frank is right?" Percy asked.

"Yes." I said. "Nico found me in the underworld and brought me back to life. He claimed it was part of our destiny."

Percy nodded like the news was somehow not new to him.

"Either way, you're alive now," Frank said. "We're going to keep you that way."

The grass rustled behind me. My eyes stung in the cold wind.

"I don't deserve a friend like you guys," I said. "You don't know what I am… what I've done."

"Stop that." Frank scowled. "You're great! Besides, you're not the only one with secrets."

That's true. Percy has his mark of Achilles. I have my past. And ever since I met Frank I had this suspicious feeling that he has a secret himself.

"Hazel, you think you're well enough to find us a hiding spot?" Percy asked.

"Why?" Hazel asked.

"The wind's stopped but the grass is still moving," Percy said as he uncapped Riptide.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw dark shapes rippling through the field.

"Hazel!" Frank tried to grab my arms.

However, something knocked him backwards and a huge grassy hurricane wrapped around Percy's and me. Percy manage to cut himself free since he already had his sword out, but I wasn't so lucky at first as I was dragged into the fields.


	19. Hazel's POV Part VII

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

Sorry for reposting this chapter, but I had to add something at the end.

* * *

 **Hazel's POV Part VII**

I am _not_ proud to say that I'm an expert on _weird_. I'd seen my mother possessed by an earth goddess. I'd created a giant out of gold. I'd destroyed an island, died, and come back from the Underworld.

But getting kidnapped by a field of grass? That was new.

At first I struggled to get my sword or at least my _pilum_ (luckily I was able to grab my bag trying to grab my sword) as I was trapped in a funnel of plants. I'd heard of modern-day singers jumping into crowds of fans and getting passed overhead by thousands of hands, but I doubt they had it as bad as me. And I had this feeling if it wasn't for my breastplate I would have it worse.

I couldn't sit up. I couldn't touch the ground. The grass would keep me off balance by tossing me around, slicing my face and arms, so I wasn't able to open my bag without spilling all of its contents ever. I couldn't even make out the stars

I could hear Frank and Percy shouting in the distance.

It was hard to think clearly, but I knew one thing: I was moving fast. Wherever I was being taken, I'd soon be too far away for my friends to find me.

I closed my eyes, ignoring the tumbling and tossing, and concentrated on the earth bellow. Gold, silver—I'd settle for anything that might disrupt my kidnappers.

I felt nothing. There were no riches under the earth.

I was about to despair when I felt a huge cold spot pass beneath me. I locked onto it with all of my concentration, dropping a mental anchor. Suddenly the ground rumbled. The swirl of plants released me and I was thrown upward like a catapult projectile.

For a moment I was weightless as I opened my eyes. I somehow kept hold of my bag even after being launched in the air. I twisted my body midair. The ground was about twenty feet below me. Then I was falling. My combat training kicked in. I practiced dropping from giant eagles before. I tucked into a roll, turned the impact into a somersault, and came up standing.

I opened my bag and drew my sword. A few yards to my left, an outcropping of rock the size of a garage jutted from the sea of grass. I quickly realize that it was my anchor. I'd _caused_ the rock to appear.

The grass rippled around it. Angry voices hissed in dismay at the massive clump of stone that had broken their progress. Before they could regroup, I ran to the rock and clambered to the top.

The grass swayed and rustled around me like the tentacles of a gigantic undersea anemone. I could sense my kidnappers' frustration.

"Can't grow on this, can you?" I yelled. "Go away, you bunch of weeds! Leave me alone!"

"Schist," said an angry voice from the grass.

I raised my eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"Schist! Big pile of schist!"

A nun at St. Agnes Academy once washed my mouth out with lye soap for saying something very similar, so I wasn't sure how to respond. Then, all around my rock island, the kidnappers materialized from the grass. At first glance they looked like Valentine angels—a dozen of chubby Cupid babies. As they stepped closer, I realize they were neither cute nor angelic.

They were the size of toddlers, with rolls of baby fat, but their skin had a strange greenish hue, as if chlorophyll ran through their veins. They had dry, brittle wings like corn-husks, and tufts of white hair like corn skin. Their faces were haggard, pitted with kernels of grain. Their eyes were solid green, and their teeth were canine fangs.

The largest creature stepped forward. He wore a yellow loincloth, and his hair was spiky, like the bristles on a stalk of wheat. He hissed at me and waddled back and forth.

"Hate this schist!" the creature complained. "Wheat cannot grow!"

"Sorghum cannot grow!" another piped up.

"Barley!" yelled a third. "Barley cannot grow."

My knees wobbled. The little creatures might have been funny if they weren't surrounding me, staring up at me with those pointed teeth and hungry green eyes. They were like Cupid piranhas.

"Y-you mean the rock?" I managed. "This rock is called schist?"

"Yes, greenstone! Schist!" the first creature yelled. "Nasty rock."

I began to understand how I'd summoned it. "It's a precious stone. It's valuable?"

"Bah!" said the one in the yellow loincloth. "Foolish native people made jewelry from it, yes. Valuable? Maybe. Not as good as wheat."

"Or sorghum!"

"Or barley!"

The others chimed in, calling out different types of grain.

I'll admit that I found myself more grateful to the Native Americans (at least I think that's what those things were referring to) that lived here. Sure in the past the only problems with Natives I ever had were the kids who bullied me because of the stories about my mother and me. But they obviously thought of schist precious enough to be part of Pluto's domain.

The cupid like creatures circled the rock, making no effort to climb it—at least yet. If they decided to swarm me, there was no way I could fend off all of them by myself. I was fortunate enough to find this schist.

"You're Gaea's servants," I guessed, deciding it might be best to keep them talking, buying time for Frank and Percy to get here. Hopefully, they will be able to see me standing so tall above the fields.

The yellow-diapered Cupid snarled. "We are the _karpoi_ , spirits of the grain. Children of the Earth Mother, yes! We have been her attendants since forever. Before nasty humans cultivated us, we were wild. We will be again. Wheat will destroy all!"

"No, sorghum will rule!"

"Barley shall dominate!"

The others joined in, each _karpos_ cheering for his own variety.

"Right." I swallowed my revulsion. "So you're Wheat, then—you in the yellow, um, britches."

"Hmmmm," said Wheat. "Come down from your schist, demigod. We must take you to our mistress' army. They will reward us. They will kill you slowly!"

"Tempting," I said. "but no thanks."

"I will give you wheat!" said Wheat, as if this were a very fine offer in exchange for my life. "So much wheat! Double if you help us capture the son of Neptune."

"You're after Percy as well?" I asked.

"Well, our mistress said she would award us double if we get the son of Neptune and transport him to her personally."

I have no clue what Gaea wants with Percy, but I know it can't be anything good.

I tried to think. How far had I been carried? How long would it take my friends to find me? The _karpoi_ were getting bolder, approaching the rock in twos and threes, scratching at the schist to see if it would hurt them.

"Before I get down…" I raised my voice, hoping it would carry over the fields. "Um, explain something to me, would you? If you're grain spirits, shouldn't you be on the gods' side? Isn't the goddess of agriculture Ceres—"

"Evil name!" Barley wailed.

"Cultivates us!" Sorghum spat. "Makes us grow in disgusting rows. Let's humans harvest us. Pah! When Gaea is mistress of the world again, we will grow wild, yes!"

"Well, naturally," I said. "So this army of hers, where you're taking me in exchange for wheat—"

"Or barley," Barley offered.

"Yeah," I agreed. "This army is where, now?"

"Just over the ridge!" Sorghum clapped his hands excitedly. "The Earth Mother—oh, yes!—she told us: 'Look for the daughter of Pluto who lives again. Find her! Bring her alive! I have many tortures planned for her. If you capture the Son of Neptune traveling with her, bring him separately so my son won't have his fun until I'm done with him.' The giant Polybotes will reward us for your life and Gaea will reward us double for the one you called Percy. Then we will march south to destroy the Romans. We can't be killed, you know. But you can, yes."

"That's wonderful." I tried to sound enthusiastic. It wasn't easy, knowing Gaea had special revenge planned for me, and that she wanted Percy. "So you—you can't be killed because Alcyoneus has captured Death, is that it?"

"Exactly!" Barley said.

"And he's keeping him chained in Alaska," I said, "at… let's see, what's the name of that place?"

Sorghum started to answer, but Wheat flew at him and knocked him down. The _karpoi_ began to fight, dissolving into funnel clouds of grain. I was about to make a run for it when Wheat re-formed, holding Sorghum in a headlock. "Stop!" he yelled at the others. "Multigrain fighting is not allowed!"

The _karpoi_ solidified into chubby Cupid piranhas again.

Wheat pushed Sorghum away.

"Oh, clever demigod," he said. "Trying to trick us into giving secrets. No, you'll never find the lair of Alcyoneus."

"I already know where it is," I said with false confidence. "He's on the island in Resurrection Bay."

"Ha!" Wheat sneered. "That place sank beneath the waves long ago. You should know that! Gaea hates you for it. When you thwarted her plans, she was forced to sleep again. Decades and decades! Alcyoneus—not until the dark times was he able to rise."

"The nineteen-eighties," Barley agreed. "Horrible! Horrible!"

"Yes," Wheat said. "And our mistress _still_ sleeps. Alcyoneus was forced bide his times in the north, waiting, planning. Force to leave the Prophecy of a Child of the Big Three to his Titan brother Saturn to deal with just to fail again."

I frowned. "The Prophecy of a Child of the Big Three?" That was a mouthful, not to mention new too me.

"It doesn't matter now!" Wheat snapped, "Because now Gaea begin to stir. Oh, but she remembers you, and so does her son!"

Sorghum cackled with glee. "You will never find the prison of Thantos. All of Alaska is the giant's home. He could be keeping Death anywhere! Years it would take for you to find him, and your poor camp has only days. Better you surrender. We will give you grain. So much grain."

My sword felt heavy. I'd dreaded returning to Alaska, but at least I'd had an idea where to start looking for Thantos. I'd assumed that the island where I had died hadn't been completely destroyed, or possibly had risen again when Alcyoneus woke. I had hoped that his base would be there. But if the island was really gone, then I have no idea where to find the giant. Alaska was huge. We could search for decades and never find him.

"Yes," Wheat said, sensing my anguish. "Give up."

I gripped my _spatha_. "Never!" I raised my voice again, praying that somehow my friends would hear me and will come in time. "If I have to destroy you all, I will. I am the daughter of Pluto!"

The _karpoi_ advanced. They gripped the rock, hissing as if it were scalding hot, but they began to climb.

"Now you will die," Wheat promised, gnashing his teeth. "You will feel the wrath of grain!"

Suddenly there was a whistling sound. Wheat's snarl froze. He looked down at the golden arrow that had just pierced his chest. Then he dissolved into pieces of Chex Mix.


	20. Hazel's POV Part VIII

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

Sorry for reposting this chapter, but I had to add something at the end.

* * *

 **Hazel's POV Part VIII**

For a heartbeat, I was just as stunned as the _karpoi_. Then Frank and Percy burst into the open and began to massacre every source of fiber they could. Frank—in his full Roman armor, shot an arrow through Barely, who crumbled into seeds. Percy slashed Riptide through Sorghum and charged toward Millet and Oats. I jumped down and joined the fight.

Within minutes, the _karpoi_ had been reduced to piles of seeds and various breakfast cereals, which Percy—after climbing onto the schist—used his thermos to fired a water blast as he walked around the perimeter of the rock and blasted the seeds away, making it hard for them to reform until finally the _karpoi_ ran scattered off all together.

Frank had rejoined us on the rock as Percy capped his thermos.

"Thanks for yelling," Percy told me. "We wouldn't have found you otherwise."

"Thanks," I said. "How'd you scared them away from you."

"Oh man," Frank said. "You missed it, Hazel. Once we were certain the _karpoi_ got you and was after Percy too, Percy summoned the sea water form bellow the cliff and formed a defensive hurricane that blew them away."

"Really?" I asked.

"It was no big deal—to be honest, I don't think I was using it at its fullest," Percy said. "I take it this huge pile of rock is how you escape."

"Yes, and it's actually a big pile of schist."

"Excuse me?" Percy said.

"That's what it's called: schist," I explained. "From what I understand the Native Americans that lived here thought of it as precious stones."

"Guys," Frank said looking off somewhere else. "You need to see this."

Percy and I moved toward where he was looking. As soon as I saw what he was looking at, I inhaled sharply. "Percy, no light! Put up your sword."

Percy muttered in some ancient language that wasn't Latin—Greek I think—and capped his sword tip, causing his sword to shrink back into a pen.

It was a miracle we haven't been noticed earlier, because down below us, an army was on the move.

The field dropped into a shallow ravine, where a country road wound north and south. On the opposite side of the road, grassy hills stretched to the horizon, empty of civilization except for one darkened convenience store at the top of the nearest rise.

The ravine was full of monsters—column after column marching south, so many and so close.

Frank, Percy and I decided to lean down to a crouch against the rock. We watched in disbelief as several dozen large, hairy humanoids passed by, dressed in tattered bits of armor and animal fur. The creatures had six arms each, three sprouting on either side, so thy looked like cavemen evolved from insects.

"Gegenes," I whispered. "The Earthborn."

"I think I read about those before—" Percy furrowed his eyebrows. "They fought the Argonauts during their quest for the Golden Fleece."

I nodded. "Yeah, I remember that too. And those things behind them—"

"Centaurs," Percy started wincing like he did when I first brought up Jason. "Those guys—they must be rogue or something."

"What do you mean?" Frank asked.

"I'm not sure—" Percy's eyebrows furrowed some more.

I watched as the horse-men cantered past. They were human from the waist up, palomino from the waist down. They were dressed in barbarian armor of hide and bronze, armed with spears and slings. At first, I thought they were wearing Viking helmets. Then I realized they had actual horns jutting from their shaggy hair.

"Are they supposed to have bull's horns?" I asked.

"Maybe they're a special breed," Frank said. "Let's not ask them, okay?"

Percy gazed further down the road and his face change to a mixture of slack and anger as he whispered real quietly. "My gods… rogue Cyclopes."

Under normal circumstances, I would ask Percy what the deal with _rogue_. He was acting as if not all centaurs and Cyclopes should be evil. But right now I was too much in shock to respond as Percy was right.

Lumbering after the centaurs was a battalion of one-eyed ogres, both male and female, each about ten feet tall, wearing armor cobbled out of junkyard metal. Six of the monsters were yoked like oxen, pulling a two-story-tall sieged tower fitted with a giant scorpion ballista.

Percy pressed the sides of his head. "Something not right… something's wrong…"

The monster army was enough to make anyone despair, but I know that something else was wrong. He was almost the same way he did when I first brought up Jason, only this time it seemed worst. He looked pale and sickly in the moonlight, as if his memories were trying to come back all at once.

I glance at Frank. "We need to get him back to the boat. The sea will make him feel better."

"No, arguments," Frank said. "There are too many of them. The camp… we have to warn them."

"Reyna and Octavian knows," Percy groaned, "Reyna had ordered Octavian to keep it a secret to prevent a mass panic, but they been aware of it for a while."

It sounded like something Reyna would do, but still, a lump formed in my throat. There was no way the legion could fight so many. If we were only a few hundred miles north from Camp Jupiter, our quest was already doomed. We could never make it to Alaska and back in time.

"Come on," I urged. "Let's…"

Then I saw the giant.

When he appeared over the ridge, I couldn't quite believe my eyes. He was taller than the siege tower—thirty feet, at least—with scaly reptilian legs like a komodo dragon from the waist down and green-blue armor from the waist up. His breastplate was shaped like rows of hungry monstrous faces, their mouths opened as if demanding food. His face was human, but his hair was wild and green, like a mop of seaweed. As he turned his head from side to side, snakes—that my guess were the basilisk that Percy mention—dropped from his deadlocks.

He was armed with a massive trident and a weighted net.

Just the sight of those weapons made my stomach clench. I've faced that type of fighter in gladiator training many times. It was the trickiest, sneakiest, most evil combat style I knew. This giant was a supersize _retiarus_.

"Please tell me that's not what I think it is?" Frank's voice quivered.

"Polybotes," Percy replied, "The bane of my father."

I didn't argue. I could feel the giant's aura of power even from here. I remembered that feeling from the Heart of the Earth as I had raised Alcyoneus—as if I were standing near a powerful magnet, and all the iron in my blood was being drawn toward it. This giant was another child of Gaea—a creature of the earth so malevolent and powerful, he radiated his own gravitational pull.

I knew we should leave. Our hiding place on top of the rock would be in plain sight to a creature that tall if he chose to look in our direction. But I sensed something important was about to happen. My friends and I crept a little farther down the schist and kept watching.

As the giant got close, a Cyclops woman broke ranks and ran back to speak to him. She was enormous, fat, and horribly ugly, wearing a chain-mail dress like a muumuu—but next to the giant she looked like a child.

She pointed to the closed up convenience store on top of the nearest hill and muttered something about food. The giant snapped back an answer, as if he was annoyed. The female Cyclopes barked an order to her kindred, and three of them followed her up the hill.

When they were halfway to the store, a searing light turned night into day. I was blinded. Below me, the enemy dissolved into chaos, monsters screaming in pain and out range. I squinted. I felt like I'd just stepped out of a dark theater into the sunny afternoon.

"Too pretty!" the Cyclopes shrieked. "Burn our eye!"

The store on the hill was encased in a rainbow, closer and brighter than any I had ever seen. The light was anchored at the store, shooting up into the heavens, bathing the countryside in a weird kaleidoscopic glow.

The lady Cyclopes hefted her club and charged at the store.

"Not enough, she's stronger than them," Percy muttered.

"Who?" Frank asked.

"The goddess in there"

I don't know what Percy was talking about, or how can he tell if there was one in the convenient store but when the Lady-Cyclopes hit the rainbow, her whole body began to steam. She wailed in agony and dropped her club, retreating with multicolored blisters all over her arms and face.

"Horrible goddess!" she bellowed at the store. "Give us snacks!"

The other monsters went crazy, charging the convenience store, then running away as the rainbow light burned them. Some threw rocks, spears, swords, and even pieces of their armor, all of which burned up in flames of pretty colors.

Finally, the giant leader seemed to realize that his troops were throwing away perfectly good equipment.

"Stop!" he roared.

With some difficulty, he managed to shout and push and pummel his troops into submission. When they'd quieted down, he approached the rainbow-shielded store himself and stalked around the borders of the light. "Goddess!" he shouted. "Come out and surrender!"

No answer from the store. The rainbow continued to shimmer.

The giant raised his trident and net. "I am Polybotes! Kneel before me so I may destroy you quickly."

Apparently, no one in the store was impressed. A tiny dark object came sailing out of the window and landed at the giant's feet. Polybotes yelled, "Grenades!"

He covered his face as his troops hit the ground.

When the thing did not explode, Polybotes bent down cautiously and picked it up.

He roared in outrage. "A Ding Dong? You dare insult me with a Ding Dong?" He threw the cake back at the shop, and it vaporized in the light.

The monsters got to their feet muttering hungrily, "Ding Dongs? Where Ding Dongs?"

"Let's attack," said the lady Cyclops. "I am hungry. My boys want snacks!"

"No!" Polybotes said. "We're already late. Alcyoneus wants us at the camp in four days' time. You Cyclopes move inexcusably slowly. We have no time for _minor_ goddesses!"

He aimed that last comment at the store, but got no response.

The lady Cyclops growled. "The camp, yes. Vengeance! The orange and purple ones destroyed my home. Now Ma Gasket will destroy theirs! Do you hear me, Leo? Jason? Piper? I come to annihilate you!"

The other Cyclopes bellowed in approval. The rest of the monsters joined in.

My whole body tingled. I glanced at my friends. "Jason," I whispered. "She fought Jason. He might still be alive."

Frank nodded. "Those other names mean anything to you?"

I shook my head. I didn't know any Leo or Piper at camp.

"I don't know," Percy said, still looking sickly and dazed. "But the orange ones—" he seemed to turn even more sickly.

I don't know about the Orange ones, but it was obvious to me that it had some meaning to Percy.

Below us, the army began to march south again, but the giant Polybotes stood to one side, frowning and sniffing the air.

"Sea god," he muttered. To my horror, he turned to our direction. "I smell sea god."

Percy was shaking, but he managed to lower himself as low as he could.

The lady Cyclops Ma Gasket snarled. "Of course you smell sea god! The sea is right over there!"

"More than that," Polybotes insisted. "I was born to destroy Neptune. I can sense…" He frowned, turning his head and shaking out a few more basilisk.

"Do we march or sniff the air?" Ma Gasket scolded. "I don't get Ding Dongs, you don't get sea god!"

Polybotes growled. "Very well. March! March!" He took one last look at the rainbow-encased store, then raked his fingers through his hair. He brought out three basilisk that seem larger than the rest, with white markings around their necks. "A gift, goddess! My name, Polybotes, means 'Many-to-Feed! Here are some hungry mouths for you. See if your store gets many customers with these sentries outside."

He laughed wickedly and threw the snakes into the tall grass on the hillside.

Then he marched south, his massive Komodo legs shaking the earth. Gradually the last column of monsters passed over the hills and disappeared into the night.

Once they were gone, the blinding rainbow shut off like a spotlight.

Frank, Percy, and I were left alone in the dark, staring across the road at a closed-up convenience store.

"That was different," Frank muttered.

Percy started to shudder violently, as if he was trying to keep it together for so long, but now that the threat was gone, he couldn't take it anymore. He needed help, or rest or something.

We could take him back to the boat, but there was grass between here and the boat and I doubt the _karpoi_ would stay gone for long.

I remember what Percy said about there being a goddess in the convenience store. Polybotes said the same thing Maybe she could help us.

"Let's go to the store," I said. "If there's a goddess inside, maybe she can help us."

"Except a bunch of basilisk are guarding the hill now," Frank said. "And that burning rainbow might comeback."

We looked at Percy, who was shaking like he had hypothermia.

"We've got to try," I said.

Frank nodded grimly. "Well… any goddess who throws a Ding Dong at a giant can't be all bad. Let's go."


	21. Frank's POV Part V

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

Sorry for reposting this chapter, but I had to add something at the end.

* * *

 **Frank's POV Part V**

I hated Ding Dongs. I hated snakes. And I hated my life. Not necessarily in that order.

As I trudged up the hill, I wish I could just pass out like Hazel—just go into a trance and experience other time, like before I got drafted for this insane quest, before I found out my dad was a godly drill sergeant with an ego problem.

My bow and spear were now slapped against my back. I hated the spear, too. The moment I got it, I silently swore I'd never used it. _A real man's weapon_ —Mars was an idiot.

Maybe there had been a mix-up. Wasn't there some sort of DNA test for gods' kids? Perhaps the godly nursery had accidentally switched me with one of Mars' buff little bully babies. No way would my mother have gotten involved with that blustering war god.

 _She was a natural warrior,_ Grandmother's voice argued.

 _It is no surprise a god would fall in love with her, given our family. Ancient blood. The blood of princes and heroes._

I shook the thought out of my head. I was no prince or hero. I was a lactose-intolerant klutz, who couldn't even protect my friend from getting kidnapped by wheat.

My new medals felt cold against my chest: the centurion's crescent, the Mural Crown. I should've been proud of them, but I felt like I'd only gotten them because his dad had bullied Reyna.

I didn't know how my friends could stand to be around me. Percy made it clear that he hated Mars, and I couldn't blame him. Sure he told me that you can't choose your family, but I don't know now if I can with the idea of being a son of Mars. Hazel kept watching me out of the corner of her eye, like she was afraid I might into a muscle-bound freak.

I looked down at my body and sighed. Correction: even _more_ of a muscle-bound freak. If Alaska really was a land beyond the gods, I might stay there. I wasn't sure I had anything to return to.

 _Don't whine,_ my grandmother would say. _Zhang men do not whine._

She was right. I had a job to do. I had to complete this impossible quest, which at the moment meant reaching the convenience store alive.

As we got closer, I worried that the store might burst into rainbow light and vaporize us, but the building stayed dark. The snakes Polybotes had dropped seemed to have vanished.

We were twenty yards from the porch when something hissed in the grass behind us.

"Go!" I yelled.

Percy stumbled. While Hazel helped him up, I turned and nocked an arrow.

I shot blindly. I thought I'd grabbed an exploding arrow, but it was only a signal flare. It skidded through the grass, bursting into orange flame and whistling: _WOO!_

At least it illuminated the monster. Sitting in a patch of withered yellow grass was a lime-colored snake as short and thick as my arm. Its head was ringed with a mane of spiky white fins. The creature stared at the arrow zipping as if wondering, _what the heck is that?_

Then it fixed its large, yellow eyes on me. It advanced like an inchworm, hunching up in the middle. Wherever it touches the grass withered and died.

I heard my friends climbing the steps of the store. I didn't dare turn and run. The snake and I studied each other. The snaked hissed, flames billowing from its mouth.

Of course, it had to breath fire.

"Nice creepy reptile," I said, very aware of the driftwood in my coat pocket. "Nice poisonous fire breathing reptile."

"Frank!" Hazel yelled behind me. "Come on!"

The snake sprang at me. It sailed through the air so fast, there wasn't time to nock an arrow. I swung my bow and smacked the monster down the hill. It spun out of sight, wailing, _"Screeeee!"_

I felt proud of myself until I saw that my bow was steaming, where it touched the snake. I watched in disbelief as the as the wood crumbled to dust.

Now was the time for me to go to my friends.

I dropped my disintegrating bow and ran for the porch. Percy and Hazel pulled him up the steps as I heard an outraged hiss followed by two more.

When I look back, I saw three monsters circling in the grass, breathing fire and turning the hillside brown with their poisonous touch. They didn't seem able or willing to come closer to the store, but that wasn't much comfort for me since I lost bow.

"We'll never get out of here," I said miserably.

"Then we'd better go in." Hazel pointed to the hand-painted sign over the door: RAINBOW ORGANIC FOODS AND LIFESTYLES.

I had no idea what that meant, but it sounded better than flaming poisonous snakes. I followed my friends inside.

…

As we stepped through the door, lights came on. Flute music started up like we'd walked onto a stage. The wide aisles were lined with bins of nuts and dried fruit, baskets of apples, and clothing racks with tie-dyed shirts and gauzy Tinker Bell-type dresses. The ceiling was covered in wind chimes. Along the walls, glasses cases displayed crystal balls, geodes, macramé dream catchers, and a bunch of other strange stuff. Incense must have been burning somewhere as the place smelled like a bouquet of flowers was on fire.

"Fortune-teller's shop?" I wondered out loud.

"Hopefully not," Hazel muttered.

"I need a place to sit," Percy said, "I can try to focus drinking water out of my thermos."

Percy look worse than ever, like he was struck with a sudden flu.

"Good idea," I agreed.

The floorboard creaked under our feet. I navigated between two Neptune statue fountains.

A girl popped up from behind the granola bins. "Help you?"

I lurched backward, knocking over one of the fountains. One stone statue of Neptune crashed to the floor. The sea god's head rolled off and water spewed out of his neck spraying a rack of tie-dyed man satchels it also sprayed over Percy, which might have helped him, but I couldn't tell since he was now a sickly shade of green after watching at the decapitated statue of his dad. Hazel herself was mortified.

"Sorry!" I bent down to clean up the mess. I almost goosed the girl with my spear.

"Eep!" she said. "Hold it! It's okay!"

I straightened up slowly, trying not to cause any more damage.

The girl clapped her hands. The fountain dissolved into mist. The water evaporated. She turned to me. "Really, it's no problem. Those Neptune fountains are so grumpy-looking, they bum me out, and I don't think Neptune like them either."

"Good to know—I think," I said.

The girl reminded me of the college age hikers I sometimes saw in Lynn Canyon Park behind my grandmother's house. She was short and muscular, with lace-up boots, cargo shorts, and a bright yellow T-shirt that read _R.O.F.L. Rainbow Organic Foods & Lifestyles._ She looked young, but her hair was frizzy white, sticking out on either side of her head like the white of a giant fried egg. Her eyes also changed from gray to black to white.

"Uh… sorry about the fountain," I managed. "We were just—"

"Oh, I know!" the girl said. "You want to browse. It's all right. My boss always willing to help demigods, so they're always welcome. Unlike those monsters. They just want to use the restroom and never buy anything!"

She snorted. Her eyes flashed with lightning.

"You're a nymph, aren't you?" Percy muttered.

"That's right! My name if Fleecy, and I'm a _Nebulae_ ," The girl said.

" _Nebulae…_ A cloud nymph?"

Fleecy beamed. "That's right. No one normally knows about us. Oh, dear. You don't look good."

"Percy been like that since we saw the monsters," Hazel said.

"Percy—Percy Jackson?" Fleecy asked. "My boss would want to see you, and I'm sure she'll want to help you too."

Okay, that was strange. But we followed Fleecy anyways.

Fleecy led them through the produced aisle, between rows of eggplants, kiwis, lotus fruits and pomegranates. At the back of the store, behind a counter with an old-fashioned cash register, stood a middle-aged woman with olive skin, long black hair, rimless glasses, and a T-shirt that read: _The Goddess Is Alive!_ She wore amber necklaces and turquoise rings. She smelled like rose petals.

She looked friendly enough, but something about her made me feel shaky, like I wanted to cry. It took me a second to realize why. The way she smiled with just one corner of her mouth, the warm brown color of her eyes, the tilt of her head, like she was considering a question. She reminded me of my mother.

She looked at Percy and seemed to have a flash of concern. "Percy! Percy Jackson, it been a long time."

"Do—Do I know you?" Percy asked.

"You don't remember—Oh, right. You wouldn't," the woman frowned. "Well, let's just say you were once one of my favorite customers."

"Percy shopped here before?" I asked

"Not that kind of customer," the woman said. "My name is Iris, by the way."

Hazel's eyes widened. "Not _the_ Iris—the rainbow goddess."

Iris made a face. "Well, that's my _official_ job, yes. But I don't define myself by my corporate identity. In my spare time, I run this!" she gestured around her proudly. "The R.O.F.L. Co-op—an employee-run cooperative promoting healthy alternative lifestyles and organic foods."

I stared at her. "But you throw Ding Dongs at monsters."

Iris looked horrified. "Oh, they're not Ding Dongs."

She rummaged under the counter and brought out a package of chocolate-covered cakes that looked exactly like Ding Dongs. "These are gluten-free, no-sugar-added, vitamin-enriched, soy-free, goat-milk-and-seaweed-based cupcakes simulations."

"All natural," Fleecy chimed in.

"I stand corrected." I suddenly felt as queasy as Percy.

Iris smiled. "You should try one, Frank. You're lactose intolerant, aren't you?"

"How did you—"

"I know these things," Iris said. "By the way Percy, here, this should help balance out your chakra, and we'll help you with your memory sickness in a second

The goddess tossed the cakes on the counter and pulled out a vial from behind the counter and spray some honeysuckle-smelling oil around Percy's face.

"As the messenger goddess I do learn a lot, hearing all the communications from the gods and so on. Besides those monsters should be glad to have some healthy snacks. Always eating junk food and heroes. They're so _unenlightened_. I couldn't have them tromping through my store, tearing up things and disturbing our _feng shui_."

"But couldn't you stop them?" I asked. "The monsters are marching south. They're going to destroy the camp."

Percy shook his head—looking slightly better. "Iris is a peaceful goddess these days, right?"

"That's right," Iris said. "I can act in self-defense, but I won't be drawn into any more Olympian aggression, thank you very much. I've been reading about Buddhism. And Taoism. I haven't decided between them."

"But…" Hazel looked mystified. "Aren't you a Greek goddess?"

Iris crossed her arms. "Don't try to put me in a box, demigod! I'm not defined to my past."

"Can you send an Iris-message?" Percy asked as if the thought occurred to him. "Isn't that something you do?"

"Iris-message?" I asked.

Iris glance at her assistant, Fleecy as if they were in a silent conversation.

"Iris-messages is an ancient way of communications that the Greeks used," Iris said. "The Romans never took to it—always relying on their road system and giant eagles and whatnot. But I imagine… Fleecy, could you give it a try?"

"Sure, boss!"

Iris winked at me. "Don't tell the other gods, but Fleecy handles most of my messages these days. She's wonderful at it, really, and I don't have time to answer all those requests personally."

"But you know Percy," Hazel said.

"Well, he's a different story," Iris said. "I'm sure Percy will explain when he regained his memories. I doubt Juno would keep his memories from him forever. As for what I was saying, I don't have time to handle all those request between demigods and Olympus. It messes up my _wa_. Sure I could just cut it down to just Olympus but since I make good business from both demigods and Olympians, I decided to let Fleecy handle demigods Iris-messages."

I was confused by what Iris mean.

"Fleecy, why don't you take Percy and Hazel into the back? You can get them something to eat while you arrange their messages. Also give Percy a cup of green tea with organic honey and wheat germ and some of my medicinal power number five. That should fix his memory sickness."

Hazel frowned. "What about Frank?"

Iris turned to me. She tilts her head quizzically, just the way my mother used to—as if I were the biggest question in the room.

"Oh, don't worry," Iris said. "Frank and I have a lot to talk about."


	22. Frank's POV Part VI

Today is my birthday. And since 'The Tales of the...' is the first series I started with finished fanfiction stories becoming one of my success since my last birthday, I want to thank viewers out of 55,009 who been reading the series up to now for.

 **Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

Sorry for reposting this chapter, but I had to add something at the end.

* * *

 **Frank's POV Part VI**

I would've preferred to go with my friends, even if it meant I had to endure green tea with wheat germ. But Iris roped her arm through mine and led me to a café table at a bay window. I set my spear on the floor. I sat across from Iris. Outside in the dark, the basilisk monsters restlessly patrolled the hillside, spewing fire and poisoning the grass.

"Frank, I know how you feel," Iris said. "I imagine that half burned stick in your pocket gets heavier every day."

I couldn't breathe. My hand went instinctively to my coat. "How do you—?"

"I told you. I know things. I was Juno's messenger for ages. Even when the Romans stop using my method of communication, I stayed around because I was still needed," Iris explained. "And it's because of it I know why she gave you a reprieve."

"A reprieve?" I brought out the piece of firewood and unwrapped it from its cloth. As unwieldly as Mars' spear was, the piece of tinder was worse. Iris was right. It weighed me down.

"Juno saved you for a reason," the goddess said. "She wants you to serve her plan. If she hadn't appeared that day when you were a baby and warned your mother about the firewood, you would've died. You were born with too many gifts. That sort of power tends to burn out a mortal life."

"Too many gifts?" I felt my ears getting warm with anger. "I don't have _any_ gifts!"

"That's not true, Frank." Iris swiped her hand in front of her like she was cleaning a windshield. A miniature rainbow appeared. "Think about it."

An image shimmered in the rainbow. I saw myself when I was four years old, running across Grandmother's backyard. My mother leaned out the window of the attic, high above, waving and calling to get my attention. I wasn't supposed to be in the backyard by myself. I didn't know why my mother was up in the attic, but she told me to stay by the house, not to go too far. Even back then, I couldn't help but do the exact opposite. I squealed with delight and ran to the edge of the woods, where I came face to face with a grizzly bear.

Too be honest, that memory was hazy, and until I saw it in the rainbow, I thought it was a dream. Now I appreciate just how surreal the experience had been. The bear regarded the little boy, and it was difficult to tell who was more startled. Then my mother appeared at my side. There was no way she should have been able to get down from attic so fast. She put herself between the bear and me and told me to run to the house. This time, I obeyed. When I turned at the back porch, I saw my mother coming out of the woods. The bear was gone. I asked what had happened. My mother smiled. _Mama Bear just needed directions,_ she said.

The scene in the rainbow changed. I saw myself at six years old, curling up in my mother's lap even though I was much too big for that. My mother's long black hair was pulled back. Her arms were around me. She wore her rimless glasses that I always liked to steal, and her fuzzy gray fleece pullover that smelled like cinnamon. She was telling me stories about heroes in a way that sounded like I was related to them. Back then, I thought we were pretending, but now—after remembering what Grandmother said the last time I saw her—I have a feeling they were actually my family history.

Now I feel bad for not listening to them years ago.

Anyways, one was of Xu Fu, who sailed in search of the elixir of life. The rainbow image had no sound, but the memory of my mother's words came to my mind: _He was your great-great-great-_ … she would poke my stomach every time she said _great-_ , dozens of times until I was giggling uncontrollably.

Then there was Sung Guo, also called Seneca Gracchus, who fought twelve Roman dragons of China. _He was the strongest dragon of all, you see,_ my mother said. _That's how he could beat them!_

I still have no idea what that meant.

Then she poke my belly with so many _greats_ , I rolled onto the floor to escape the tickling. _And your very oldest ancestor that we know of: he was the Prince of Pylos! Hercules fought him once. It was a hard fight!_

 _Did we win?_ I had asked.

My mother laughed, but there was sadness in her voice. _No, our ancestor lost. But it wasn't easy for Hercules. Imagine trying to fight a swarm of bees. That's how it was. Even Hercules had trouble!_

The comment made no sense to me, then or now. But I remember how it seem that Percy knows a lot about Greek half of Mythology, I decided to ask him if I ever got the chance—and if he'll be able to remember anything without having another memory sickness attack.

Anyways, I hadn't thought about these stories in years, but now they came back to me as clearly as my mother's face. It hurt to see her again. I wanted to go back to that time. I wanted to be a little kid and curled up on her lap.

In the rainbow image, little me asked where their family was from. So many heroes! Were we from Pylos, or Rome, or China, or Canada?

My mother smiled, tilting her head as if considering how to answer.

 _Li-Jien_ , she said at last. _Our family is from many places, but our home is Li-Jien. Always, remember, Frank: you have a special gift. You can be anything._

The rainbow dissolved, leaving just Iris and me.

"I don't understand." My voice was hoarse.

"Your mother explained it," Iris said. "You can be anything."

It sounded like one of those stupid things parents say to boost your self-esteem—a worn-out slogan that could be printed on Iris' T-shirts, right along with _The Goddess Is Alive!_ and _My Other Car Is a Magic Carpet!_ But the way Iris said it, it sounded like a challenge.

I pressed my hand against my pants pocket, where I kept my mother's sacrifice medal. The silver medallion was cold as ice.

"I _can't_ be anything," I insisted. "I've got zero skills."

"What have you tried?" Iris asked. "You wanted to be an archer. You managed that pretty well. You've only scratched the surface. Your friends Hazel and Percy—they're both stretched between worlds: Greek and Roman, the past and the present. But you are stretched more than either of them. Your family is ancient—the blood of Pylos on your mother's side, and your father is Mars. No wonder Juno wants you to be one of the seven heroes. She wants you to fight the giants and Gaea. She wants you to be one of the seven greatest heroes of all time. But think about this: What do _you_ want?"

"I don't have any choice," I argued. "I'm the son of the stupid war god. I have to go on this quest and—"

" _Have_ to," Iris said. "Not _want_ to. I used to think like that. Eventually I got tired of being everyone's servant. Fetch goblets of wine for Jupiter. Deliver letters for Juno. Send messages back and forth across the rainbow for anyone with a golden _drachma_."

"A golden what?"

"Not important. But I learned to let go. I started R.O.F.L., and now I'm free of that baggage. If I haven't I would have joined the Titan's side during the Titan War," Iris said, "You can let go, too. Maybe you can't escape fate. Someday that piece of wood will burn. I foresee that you'll be holding it when it happens, and your life will end—"

"Thanks," I muttered.

"—but that just makes your life more precious! You don't have to be what your parents and grandmother expect. You don't have to follow the war god's orders, or Juno's. Do your own thing, Frank! Find a new path!"

I thought about that. The idea was thrilling: reject the gods, my destiny, my dad. I didn't want to be a war god's son. My mother had _died_ in a war. I had lost everything thanks to war. Mars clearly didn't know the first thing about me. I didn't want to be a hero.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked. "You want me to abandon the quest, let Camp Jupiter be destroyed? My friends are counting."

Iris spread her hands. "I can't tell you what to do, Frank. But do what you _want_ , not what they tell you to do. Where did conforming ever get me? I've spent five millennia serving everyone else, and I never discovered my own identity. In fact, if it wasn't for your friend Percy, I wouldn't even have the recognition I deserved."

"Percy—what—?"

"The point was, I found peace here at the co-op. You could stay with us, if you want. Become a ROFLcopter."

"A what, now?"

"The point is you have options. If you continue this quest… what happens when you free Thantos? Will it be good for your family? Your friends?"

I remember what my grandmother had said: she had an appointment with Death. Grandmother infuriated me sometimes; but still, she was my only living family, the only person alive who loved me. If Thantos stayed chained up, I might not lose her. And Hazel—somehow she had come back from the Underworld. If she was part of the prophecy of seven too, would it mean Death will leave her alone until her destiny is finished, or take her the moment she's free. Not to mention my own problem: according to Iris, I should have died when I was a baby. All that stood between Death and me was a half-burned stick. Would Thantos take me away, too?

I tried to imagine staying here with Iris, putting on a R.O.F.L. shirt, selling crystals and dream catchers to demigod travelers and lobbing gluten-free cupcake simulations at passing monsters. Meanwhile, an undying army would overrun Camp Jupiter.

 _You can be anything;_ my mother had said.

 _No,_ I thought. _I can't be that selfish._

"I have to go," I said. "It's my job."

Iris sighed. "I expected as much, but I had to try. A shame, I would have hoped you would have chosen the peaceful route. The route Percy turned down."

"You once gave Percy the same offer?" I asked.

"Not me, but in a way, yes, Percy was offered a way out of an earlier fate of his, but he choose his fate for others, just as you have," Iris said. "Funny thing about Percy, no matter how many relatives he has, he's always willing to make room for more. No matter if they share the same divine parent or ancestor or not."

I got this strange feeling she was telling me something without actually telling me it.

"Anyways, the task ahead of you… Well, I wouldn't wish it on anyone, especially a nice boy like you. If you must go, at least I can offer some advice. You'll need help finding Thantos."

"You know where the giants are hiding him?" I asked.

Iris gazed thoughtfully at the wind chimes swaying on the ceiling. "No… Alaska is beyond the gods' sphere of control. The location is shielded from my sight. But there _is_ someone who would know. You'll have to seek out the seer Phineas. He's blind, but he can see the past, present, and future. How knows many things. He can tell you where Thantos is being held."

"Phineas…" I said. "Wasn't there a story about him?"

Iris nodded reluctantly. "In the old days, he committed horrible crimes. He used his gift of sight for evil. Jupiter sent harpies to plague him. The Argonauts—including your ancestor, by the way—"

"The prince of Pylos?"

Iris hesitated. "Yes, Frank. Though his gift, his story… _that_ you must discover on your own. Suffice it to say, the Argonauts drove away the harpies in exchange for Phineas' help. That was eons ago, but I understand Phineas has returned to the mortal world. A shame Halcyon Green came back on his own free will as Hazel did, I would have recommended him because of his connections with Percy."

"Wait what?" I asked.

Iris waved it off. "Doesn't matter, he seems to have stayed put in the Underworld anyways. For now, Phineas would have to do. You'll find him in Portland, Oregon, which is your way north. But you must promise me one thing. If he's still plagued by harpies, do _not_ kill them, no matter what Phineas promises you. Win his help some other way. The harpies are not evil. They're my sisters."

"Your sisters?"

"I know. I don't look old enough to be the harpies' sister, but it's true. And Frank… there's another problem. If you're determined to leave, you'll have to clear those basilisk off the hill. Only _you_ have the ability to kill them. If your friends try… well, I foresee bad things happening. Even Percy's mark wouldn't save him from the agony of basilisk poison.

"But how?"

She glanced down at the floor. I realized that she was looking at my spear.

"I wish there was another way," she said. "If you had some weasels, for instance. Weasels are deadly to basilisks."

"Fresh out of weasels," I admitted.

"Then you will have to use your father's gift. Are you sure you wouldn't like to live here instead? We make excellent lactose-free rice milk."

I rose. "How do I use the spear?"

"You'll have to handle that on your own. I can't advocate violence. I wouldn't even recommend killing basilisk to you if it wasn't for the fact they're keeping you from continuing your quest. While you're doing battle, I'll check on your friends. I hope Fleecy found the right medicinal herbs. The last time, we had a mix-up… Well, I don't think those heroes _wanted_ to be daisies."

The goddess stood. Her glasses flashed, and I saw my own reflection in the lenses. I looked serious and grim, which was nothing like the little boy I'd seen in those rainbow images.

"Two more bit of advice," she said. "When the time is right, you should ask Percy a bit more of your ancestor's gift."

I already figured that much out but I let Iris continue:

"Also you're destined to die holding that piece of firewood, watching it burn. But perhaps if you didn't keep it yourself. Perhaps if you trusted someone enough to hold it for you…"

My fingers curled around the tinder. "Are you offering?"

Iris laughed gently. "Oh, dear, no. I'd lose it in this collection. It would get mixed up with my crystals, or I'd sell it as a driftwood paperweight by accident. No, I meant a demigod friend. Someone close to your heart."

Hazel, I thought immediately. There was no one I trusted more. But how could I confess my secret? If I admitted how weak I really was, that my whole life depends on a half burned stick… Hazel would never see me as a hero. I'd never be her knight in armor. And how could I expect her to take that kind of burden from me?

I wrapped up the tinder and slipped it back into my coat under my armor. "Thanks… thanks, Iris."

She squeezed my hand. "Don't lose hope, Frank. Rainbows always stand for hope."

She made her way toward the back of the store, leaving me alone.

"Hope," I grumbled. "I'd rather have a few good weasels."

I picked up my father's spear and marched out to face basilisks.


	23. Frank's POV Part VII

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

Sorry for reposting this chapter, but I had to add something at the end.

* * *

 **Frank's POV Part VII**

I missed my bow.

I wanted to stand on the porch and shoot the snakes from a distance. A few well-placed exploding arrows, a few craters in the hillside—problem solved.

Unfortunately, a quiver full of arrows wouldn't do me much good if I couldn't shoot them. Besides, I had no idea where the basilisks were. They'd stopped blowing fire as soon as I came outside.

I stepped off the porch and leveled my golden spear. I don't like fighting at close range. I was too slow and bulky. I'd done okay during the war games, but this was real. There was no giant eagles ready to snatch me up and take me to the medics if I made a mistake.

 _You can be anything._ My mother's voice echoed in my mind.

Great, I thought. I want to be good with a spear. And immune to poison—and fire.

Something told me my wish had not been granted. The spear felt just as awkward in my hands.

Patches of flame still smoldered on the hillside. The acrid smoke burned in my nose. The withered grass crunch under my feet.

I thought about those stories my mother used to tell—generations of heroes who had battled Hercules, fought dragons, and sailed monster-infested seas. I didn't understand how I could have evolved from a line like that, or how my family had migrated from Greece through the Roman Empire all the way to China, but some unsettling ideas were starting to form. For the first time, I started to wonder about this Prince of Pylos, and my great-grandfather Shen Lun's disgrace at Camp Jupiter, and what the family powers might be.

 _The gift has never kept our family safe,_ Grandmother had warned.

A reassuring thought as I hunted poisonous fire-breathing snakes.

I also realize that maybe bringing my life-line out here with me might of not been my greatest ideas as I doubt the cloth the cloth is wrapped in tucked into my coat under my armor might not keep it safe. Because if it doesn't catch on fire created by the snakes, I'm sure the poison disintegrating it will kill me without it catching on fire.

Too late now.

The night was quiet except for the crackle of brush fires. Every time a breeze made the grass rustle, I thought about the grain spirits who'd captured Hazel. Hopefully they'd gone south with the giant Polybotes. I didn't need any more problems right no.

I crept downhill with my eyes stinging from the smoke. Then about twenty feet ahead, I saw a burst of flame.

I considered throwing my spear. Stupid idea. One spear against three snakes, even if I destroy one of them, I still will have to fight the other two without a weapon I can use.

My best chances might have been with the vials of Gorgon's blood—that's if I knew which one was which, because if I drink the wrong vial then the Basilisk wouldn't have to worry about me. I guess it's a good thing I left them back at the boat.

So, instead I advanced toward the fire.

I emerged in the clearing of burned grass and found myself face-to-face with a basilisk.

The snake rose up on its tail. It hissed and expanded the collar of white spikes around its neck which resembles a crown.

I would admit, when I first heard the name Basilisk I thought of this huge dragon like monster that could petrify you with their eyes. Although this snake wasn't what I thought it was, it was even more terrible. As tiny as it was, this extra-small package of fire, poison, and evil would be much harder to kill than a large bulky lizard. I doubt I can out run it considering how fast they can move either.

The monster fixed its pale yellow eyes on me without attacking me.

That's weird.

My golden spear felt cold and heavy. The dragon-tooth point dipped toward the ground all on its own—like a dowsing rod searching for water.

I wanted to yell at the spear. It would be hard enough to jab a monster with this. Yet it was strange that my spear was acting this way. Why did my father give me this thing in the first place?

Then I heard the grass rustle on either side of me as the other two basilisk slithered into the clearing.

Great! I just walked straight into an ambush.


	24. Frank's POV Part VIII

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

Sorry for reposting this chapter, but I had to add something at the end.

* * *

 **Frank's POV Part VIII**

I swept my spear back and forth. "Stay back!" My voice sounded squeaky. "I've got… um… amazing powers—and stuff."

The basilisk hissed in three part harmony. My guess was that they were laughing.

I couldn't blame them.

I probably don't look threatening to them with a sumo body and baby face combo carrying a quiver full of arrows with no bow, and barely lifting my spear.

Speaking of which, the spear tip was almost too heavy to lift now, as if the jagged white triangle bone was trying to touch the earth. Then something clicked in the back of my mind: Mars had said the tip was a dragon's tooth. Hadn't there been some story about dragon's teeth planted in the ground? Something I read in monster class at camp…?

The basilisks circled me, taking their time. Maybe they were just hesitating because of my spear. Maybe the just couldn't believe how stupid I was.

It seemed like madness, but I let the spear tip drop. I drove it into the ground with a _Crack_.

When I lifted it out, the tip was gone—broken off in the dirt.

Wonderful. Now I had a golden stick.

I was considering of taking out my piece of fire wood. If I was going to die, I might as well try to incinerate the basilisk in a massive blaze. Maybe my friends will be able to get away.

But before I could get up the courage, the ground rumbled at my feat. Dirt spewed everywhere, and a skeletal hand clawed the air. The basilisk hissed and baked up.

I couldn't blame them. I watched in horror as a human skeleton crawled out of the ground. It took on flesh as if someone were pouring gelatin over its bones, covering them in glowing, transparent skin. Then ghostly clothes enveloped it—a muscle shirt, camo pants, and army boots. Everything about the creature was gray: gray clothes on gray flesh on gray bones.

It turned to me with its skull grinning beneath an expressionless gray face. I whimpered like a puppy. My legs shook so badly I had to support myself with the spear shaft. The skeleton warrior seems to be waiting for something. I quickly realized it was waiting for orders—my orders.

"Kill the Basilisks!" I yelped. "Not me!"

The skeletal warrior leaped into action. He grabbed the nearest snake and though his gray flesh began to smoke on contact, he strangled the basilisk with one hand and flung its limp body. The other two basilisks hissed with rage. One sprang at me, but I knocked it aside with the butt of my spear.

The other snake belched fire directly in the skeleton's face. The warrior marched forward and stomped the basilisk's head under his boot.

I turned toward the last basilisk, which was curled at the edge of the clearing studying me.

Amazingly my Imperial gold spear shaft was steaming but still intact. It didn't crumble like my bow did.

The skeleton warrior's right foot and hand were slowly dissolving from poison and his head was on fire, but otherwise he was doing pretty good.

The basilisk did the smart thing. It turned and flee.

"Don't let it get away!" I yelled.

It was probably unnecessary to yell that, but the skeleton obeyed anyways. In a blur of motion, the skeleton pulled something from his shirt and flung it across the clearing, impaling the basilisk in the dirt. I thought it was a knife. Then I realized it was one of the skeleton's own ribs.

Good thing my stomach was empty because that was so gross.

The skeleton stumbled over to the basilisk. It pulled out its rib and used it to cut off the creature's head. The basilisk dissolved into ashes. Then the creature did the same to the other two monsters before kicking all of the ashes in order to disperse them.

I remembered the two gorgons in the Tiber—the way the river had pulled apart their remains to keep them from re-forming. "You're making sure they don't come back," I realized. "Or slowing them down, anyway."

The skeleton warrior stood at attention in front of me. It's poisoned foot and hand were almost gone. Its head was burning. Then the skeleton saluted with its stump of a hand.

I had a horrible feeling in my gut as the creature started to crumble, sinking back into the ground.

"Wait!" I said. "I don't even know what to call you! Tooth Man? Bones? Gray?"

As its face disappeared beneath the dirt, the warrior seemed to grin at the last name—or maybe that was just its skeletal teeth showing. Then it was gone, leaving me alone with my pointless spear and that horrible feeling in my gut.

"Gray," I muttered. "Okay… but…"

I examined the tip of my spear. Already, a new dragon tooth was starting to grow out of the golden shaft.

 _You get three charges out of it,_ Mars had said, _so use it wisely_.

Maybe it was for the best I only had three charges. I'd sensed the malevolent in the skeleton. It was no pet. It was a vicious, undead killing force, barely controlled by the power of Mars. I got the feeling it would do what I said—but if my friends were in a line of fire, or if I was too slow on the orders, it might started killing whatever was in the path, including its master: me.

Mars had told me the spear would give me breathing room until I learned to use my mother's talents. Which meant I needed to learn those talents— _fast_.

"Thanks a lot, Dad," I grumbled.

I heard footsteps behind me. Percy and Hazel ran into the clearing. Percy looked better, except he was carrying a-tie-dyed man satchel from R.O.F.L.-which looked wrong. His thermos was in his hand—ready to blast anything with a water blast. Hazel had drawn her _spatha_.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Percy turned in circle, looking for enemies. "Iris told us you were out here battling basilisk by yourself and we decided to come out to help. What happened?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted.

Hazel crouched next to the dirt where Gray disappeared. "I sense death. Either my brother has been here or… the basilisks are dead?"

Percy stared at me in awe. "You killed them _all_?"

I swallowed as I had no way to explain about Gray. Not right now at least. Not to mention I remember how Iris mentioning odd stuff about Percy.

"I'll explain later," I said, "By the way, Percy. We should talk about a few things. Iris brought up a few things I think has to do with your forgotten past."

"Okay…" Percy responded.

"So what now?" Hazel asked

"Now, there's a blind man in Portland we've got to see," I said.


	25. Percy's's POV Part IX

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

Sorry for reposting this chapter, but I had to add something at the end.

* * *

 **Percy's's POV Part IX**

I already felt like the lamest demigod in the history of lame. The purse was the final insult.

We'd left R.O.F.L. in a hurry, so maybe Iris hadn't meant the bag as a criticism. She quickly stuffed it with vitamin-enriched pastries, dried fruit leather, macrobiotic beef jerky, and a few crystals for good luck. Then she'd shoved it at me:

 _Here, you'll need this. Oh, that looks good._ The purse—sorry, _masculine accessory bag_ was rainbow tie-dyed with a peace symbol stitched in wooden beads and the slogan _Hug the Whole Word._ I wished it said _Hug the Commode_. I felt like the bag was a comment on my latest breakdown. As we sailed north, I put the man satchel as far away from me as I could, but the boat was small.

I still couldn't believe I broke down like I did. I tried to keep it together when we saw the giant army, but the moment they were gone, I just broke down.

I couldn't help it though. It was hard enough that I somehow _knew_ that those evil centaurs and Cyclopes were rogue ones that gone against Olympus. But that giant Polybotes… that giant—I could tell right away he was the bane of my father. He gave me the feeling of the opposite when I felt when I stood in the ocean. My energy practically drained out of me, leaving me weak and feverish, like my insides were eroding.

Iris' medicinal tea had helped my body feel better, but my mind still ached from my missing memories.

Worst of all, the farther north I went, the more memories faded. I had started to feel better at Camp Jupiter, remembering random names and faces. As if someone put built a dam to hold all my memories and when I made it to camp the dam started breaking until I decided to go on this quest and someone fixed the dam hole (Why do I got the urge to laugh at that last statement?). What's worse is now the dam seemed to be blocking my memories of Annabeth, making it harder for me to remember. At R.O.F.L. when I tried to send an Iris-message to Annabeth, but Fleecy had just shaken her head sadly.

 _It's like you're dialing somebody,_ she said, _but you've forgotten the number. Or someone is jamming the signal. Sorry, dear. I just can't connect you_.

I had hopes that the signal was being blocked. After all, Don the Faun said someone was blocking an Empathy link so maybe whoever it is—I put a denari on Juno—is also blocking any Iris-message to someone to my past.

And yet, I fear that unless I get this memory problem solved, the closer I get to Alaska the more my memory of Annabeth will fade.

I tried to push the fear in the back of my mind though and concentrated on the quest as I silently reminded myself that Juno said I would get my memories back if I succeed in Camp Jupiter. I just hope she is good to her word.

It was early in the morning of June 21, now. We had to get to Alaska, find Thantos, locate the legion's standard eagle, and make it back to Camp Jupiter by the evening of June 24. Three days. Meanwhile, the enemy had only a few hundred miles to march.

I guided the boat through the strong currents off the North California coast. The wind was cold, but it felt good, clearing some of the confusion from my head. I bent my will to push the boat as hard as I could. The hull rattled as the _Pax_ plowed its way north.

Meanwhile, Hazel and Frank traded stories about the events at Rainbow Organic Foods. Frank explained about the blind seer Phineas in Portland, and how Iris had said that he might be able to tell us where to find Thantos.

"She also brought up another name who might of knew you, Percy," Frank said, "Someone name Halcyon."

I frowned. It was familiar, but I can't place where I heard the name. Yet at the mention of the name that line _'One of the seven greatest demigods of your generation… possibly of all time'_.

"Did Iris say anything else about Halcyon?" Hazel asked.

"Just that he must have choose to stay in the underworld," Frank said.

"Which means he's dead," Hazel said.

Leaving us to deal with Phineas. Part of me wished Halcyon was alive. If he was part of my past, then he could fill me in. Maybe he can get us a proper prophecy for this quest since Mars denied Octavian to do so.

At that moment, another memory flashed in my head: _Knowing too much of the future is dangerous._

I placed my hand on my forehead as another jabbing pain hit me. I just hit something important, again. Something about my past. Something whatever is keeping my memories from me doesn't want me to remember.

If Hazel and Frank noticed, they hid it as Hazel started talking about Fleecy.

"So this Iris-message worked?" Frank asked.

Hazel gave me a sympathetic look. She didn't mention my failure to contact Annabeth.

"I got in touch with Reyna," she said. "You're supposed to throw a coin into the rainbow and say this incantation, like _O Iris, goddess of the rainbow, accept my offering._ Except Fleecy kind of changed it. She gave us her—what did she call it—her direct number? So I had to say, _O Fleecy, do me a solid. Show Reyna at Camp Jupiter_. I felt kind of stupid."

"I prefer using the first one," I said.

"Either way it worked. Reyna's image appeared in the rainbow, like in a two-way video call. She was in the baths. Scared her out of her mind."

"I would like to see her scared expression," Frank said.

"Anyway, we told Reyna about the army, but like Percy said, she pretty much already knew," Hazel said. "She wasn't even surprise to hear it was the Bane of Neptune that was leading the attack. However, it doesn't change anything. She's doing what she can to shore up the defenses. Unless we unleash Death, and get back with the eagle—"

"The camp can't stand against that army," Frank finished. "Not without help."

"Even with help, unless Terminus is in a helping mood against Polybotes, the camp has a slim chance," I reminded him.

"Terminus?" Frank asked.

Hazel then had a look that told me she realize what I meant. "Terminus is a god."

I nodded as I explained what Reyna and my conversation before we left the camp.

"The problem is, Terminus is the god of boundaries. The only time he can leave his post is when a camper leaves camp," I said. "Other than that, the only way to get Terminus to help the camp against Polybotes is—"

"If we bring Polybotes to Terminus," Frank said. "That's probably why Gaea gave her son an army of the size we saw—to outnumber the Romans and keep them away from the only god they can count on to help."

We sailed in silence after that.

I kept thinking about the Cyclopes and centaurs. I thought about Annabeth, the faun Grover, and my dream of a giant warship under construction.

Reyna said I came from somewhere, but I couldn't remember enough about my past to call for help.

I fingered the beads on my necklace, the _Legionaire_ tablet, and the silver ring Reyna gave me. Maybe in Seatle I'd be able to talk to her sister Hylla. She might send help—assuming if she wasn't still holding a grudge against me and will kill me on sight.

After a few more hours of navigating, my eyes started to droop. I was afraid I'd pass out from exhaustion.

I prayed: _Dad, if you can, send something to take us Portland so I can get some sleep?_

At first nothing happened. But then Hazel yelled: "Look over there!"

I looked to see a line of fin in the water. Then what came out of the water was a sea creature with the upper-body of a horse and lower body of a fish. It's scales were a familiar rainbow color and it was big enough to carry a pegasus.

Frank took out his _pilum_ from his bag.

"Wait," I said. "I think I know this creature—Hippocampi."

The creature nodded it's head and spoke in my head: _You do, Lord. I'm Rainbow. I helped you before. And now I'm here to help you get to your next destination_.

I smiled and relayed the message to my friends. They were cautious, but they agreed to use Neptune's gift.

I had made a makeshift rope harness and strapped it around Rainbow's neck. I told him where we needed to go, which Rainbow only agreed to take us close to Portland as he could due to the water pollution there, which we agreed on since it would give me time to sleep.

…

My dreams started off normal—no flash forward or anything.

I was young in the dream, possibly seven. I must of heard something and was investigating it because I had my trusted sword Riptide drawn and was creeping along the wall of a warehouse into a dark alley that lead to a dead end at a loading dock piled with old scrap metal.

Just then there was a loud _CLANG_. A sheet of corrugated tin quivered on the dock. Something— _or someone—_ was underneath.

For some reason I decided to investigate it myself as I crept toward the loading bay until I stood over the pile of metal with Riptide raised—ready for anything—as I lifted the sheet of tin.

When I did that, a blonde blur came out with a hammer. Instinctively, I parried away the hammer with my sword.

What surprise me was that the thing that attack me was a little girl around seven years old. She had blonde hair that curled at the end like in princess movies, only she was wearing warn out clothes that seen better days, and her eyes were stormy gray.

Annabeth.

I recognized her from the faint memories I had of her. Only Annabeth seemed younger.

Either way, it would make my heart skip a beat with delight if it wasn't for the fact that Annabeth was scared and trying to kill me with a hammer.

"No more monsters!" she screamed while swinging her hammer some more at me. I manage to block it with Riptide each time.

"It's okay!" I manage to say (with no control over what I was saying in my dreams) despite having a hammer swinging at me, "My name is Percy Jackson!"

"Monster!" she wailed.

"No!" I promised. At first I thought of trying to calm her down so she won't do anything we'll regret when something about the way she was acting seemed familiar. As if I lived the fear she was showing.

I must of hesitated, because Annabeth manage to knock Riptide out of my hands with her hammer and was about to bash me in.

"No!" I responded.

At that moment I got a tugging feeling in my stomach as the pipes in the alley burst spilling water on Annabeth without harming her, other than knocking her down. Annabeth looked at me with surprise as the tugging sensation ended and the water succeeded.

"How—how did you do that?" she asked.

"I'm a demigod," I explained. "I take it that since you're scared of monsters, you're a demigod too?"

Annabeth nodded.

"Where's your family?"

I found myself regretting asking that because her expression turned hard and angry. Her chin trembled. "My family hates me. They don't want me. So I ran away. What about you? Your family hate you."

I hesitated for a bit before answering: "I'm far from home due to being chase by monsters. It was my step-daddy's fault. If he had picked me up when he was supposed to, I would still be home."

I didn't know where the words came from, but some part of me knew it was right.

"Really?" Annabeth asked.

"Yeah. But it's okay. I'm traveling with two companions who promised to take me home," I explained. "My name is Percy Jackson—son of Poseidon."

Okay, why did I just call my dad by his Greek name and not by his Roman name?

I had no clue, but it didn't seem to bother Annabeth as she smiled. "Mine is Annabeth Chase—daughter of Athena."

At that moment the dream shifted to another scene. I guess whoever was blocking my memories was making sure I don't find out too much of my past, which was a shame. Only this time my dreams seemed unfocused and kept changing.

Now I was fourteen—I would guess—on Mount Tamalpais, north of San Francisco, fighting at the old Titan stronghold. That didn't make sense. I hadn't been with the Romans when they attacked, but I saw it all clearly: A Titan in armor, Annabeth and two other girls fighting by my side. One of the girls died in the battle. I knelt over her, watching as she dissolved into the stars.

Then I saw the giant warship in its dry dock. The bronze dragon figurehead glinted in the morning light. The riggings and armaments were complete, but something was wrong. A hatch in the deck was open, and smoke poured from some kind of engine. A boy with curly black hair was cursing as he pounded the engine with a wrench. Two other demigods squatted next to him, watching with concern. One was a teenage guy with short blond hair. The other was a girl with long dark hair. Judging from how close they were next to each other, I say they been dating for quite a while.

"You realize it's the solstice," the girl said. "We're supposed to leave today."

"I know that!" The curly-haired mechanic whacked the engine a few more times. "Could be the frizzrockets. Could be the samophlange. Could be Gaea messing with us again. I'm not sure!"

"How long?" the blond guy asked.

"Two, three days?"

"But they may not have that long," the girl warned.

Something told me that she meant Camp Jupiter. Then the scene shifted again.

I saw a boy and his dog roaming over the yellow hills of California. But as the image became clearer, I realized it wasn't a boy. It was a Cyclops in ragged jeans and a flannel shirt. The dog was a shambling mountain of black fur and was easily as big as a rhino. The Cyclops carried a massive club over his shoulder, and yet I got this feeling that I should know the Cyclopes and the dog and not as our enemy. The Cyclops kept yelling my name, calling me… brother?

"He smells farther away," the Cyclops moaned to the dog. "Why does he smell farther?"

"ROOF!" the dog barked.

My heart sank. I don't know why but I wanted to yell at the Cyclops and tell him where I was going.

But before I could, my dream shifted again.

Now I saw a range of snowy mountains, so tall they broke the clouds. Gaea's sleeping face appeared in the shadows of the rocks.

 _Such a valuable pawn,_ she said soothingly. _Do not fear, Percy Jackson. Come north! Your friends will die, yes. But I will preserve you for now. I have great plans for you._

In a valley between the mountains lay a massive field of ice. The edge plunged into the sea, hundreds of feet below, with sheets of frost constantly crumbling into the water. On top of the ice field stood a legion camp—ramparts, moats, towers, barracks, just like Camp Jupiter except three times as large. At the crossroads outside the _principia_ , a figure in dark robes stood shackled to the ice. My vision swept past him, into the headquarters. There, in the gloom, sat a giant even bigger than Polybotes. His skin glinted gold. Displayed behind him were tattered, frozen banners of a Roman legion, including a large, golden eagle with its wings spread.

Either this was Alcyoneus and I'm in Alaska or I'm a fool.

 _We await you,_ Alcyoneus' voice boomed. _While you fumble your way north, trying to find me, my armies will destroy your precious camps—first the Romans, then the others. You cannot win, little demigod._

…

I lurched awake in cold gray daylight, rain falling on my face.

"I thought _I_ slept heavily," Hazel said. "Welcome to Portland."

I sat up and blinked and looked around. After the dream I had, I wasn't sure what was real. The _Pax_ floated on an iron-black river through the middle of the city. Heavy clouds low overhead. The cold rain was so light, it seemed suspended in the air. On my left were industrial warehouses and railroad tracks. To my right was a small downtown area—an almost cozy-looking cluster of towers between the banks of river and a line of misty forested hills.

There was no way Rainbow could take us this far on its own.

"How did we get here?" I asked.

Frank gave me a look like, _You won't believe this_. "Your horse-fish friend took us as far as the Columbia River. Then he passed the harness to a couple of twelve-foot sturgeons who pulled us for a long time. Hazel and I took turns sleeping. Then we hit this river—"

"The Willamette," Hazel offered.

"Right," Frank said. "After that, your dad must have pulled some strings or something with some nature spirits because the boat kind of took over and navigated us here by itself. Sleep okay?"

As the _Pax_ guided south, I told them about my dreams only leaving out when I met Annabeth as I wasn't completely sure if that was a dream or an actual memory. I tried to focus on the positive: a warship might be on the way to help Camp Jupiter. A friendly Cyclops and a giant dog were looking for me. I didn't mention what Gaea had said: _Your friends will die_.

When I described the Roman fort on the ice, Hazel looked troubled.

"So Alcyoneus is on a glacier," she said. "That doesn't narrow it down much. Alaska has hundreds of those."

I nodded. "Maybe this seer Phineas can tell us which one."

The boat docked itself at a wharf. The three of us stared at the buildings of drizzly downtown Portland.

Frank wiped the rain off his flat-top hair.

"So now we find a blind man in the rain," Frank said. "Yay."


	26. Percy's POV Part X

Merry Christmas to all my readers who celebrates Christmas, and happy holidays to those who don't.

 **Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

Sorry for reposting this chapter, but I had to add something at the end.

* * *

 **Percy's's POV Part X**

It wasn't that hard to find Phineas. All we had to do was listen for the screaming and the weed whackers.

We'd brought lightweight Polartec jackets since even in Mist-disguised form our armor didn't keep us warm, so we were able to bundled up against the cold rain and walked for a few blocks through the most deserted streets. We also made sure to bring our duffle bags since we _don't_ want to be caught without them. I even stuffed the macrobiotic jerky in my coat pocket, in case I needed them.

We some bicycle traffic and a few homeless guys shuddled in doorways, but the majority of Portlanders seemed to be staying indoors.

As we made our way down Glisan Street, I looked longingly at the folks in the cafés enjoying coffee and pastries. I was about to suggest that we stop for breakfast when I heard a voice down the street yelling: "HA! TAKE THAT, STUPID CHICKENS!" followed by the revving of a small engine and a lot of squawking.

I glanced back at my friends. "You think—?"

"Probably," I agreed.

We ran toward the sounds.

The next block over, we found a big open parking lot with tree-lined sidewalks and rows of food trucks facing the streets on all four sides. I had seen food trucks before, but never so many in one place. Some were simple white metal boxes on wheels, with awning and serving counters. Others were painted blue or purple or polka-dotted, with big banners out front and colorful menu boards and tables like do-it-yourself sidewalk cafés. One advertised Korean/Brazilian fusion tacos, which sounded like some kind of top-secret radioactive cuisine. Another offered sushi on a stick. A third was selling deep-fried ice cream sandwiches. The smell was amazing—dozens of different kitchens cooking at once.

My stomach rumbled. Most of the food carts were open for business, but there was hardly anyone around. They could get anything they wanted! Deep-fried ice cream sandwiches? Oh man, that sounded _way_ better than wheat germ.

Unfortunately, there was more happening than just cooking. In the center of the lot, behind all the food trucks, an old man in a bathrobe was running around with a weed whacker, screaming at a flock of bird-ladies who were trying to steal food off a picnic table.

"Harpies," said Hazel. "Which means—"

"That's Phineas," Frank guessed.

We ran across the street and squeezed between the Korean/Brazilian truck and a Chinese egg roll burrito vendor.

The backs of the food trucks weren't nearly as appetizing as the fronts. They were cluttered with stacks of plastic buckets, overflowing garbage cans, and makeshift clothesline hung with wet aprons and towels. The parking lot itself was nothing but a square of cracked asphalt, marbled with weeds. In the middle was a picnic table piled high with food from all different trucks.

The guy in the bathrobe was old and fat. He was mostly bald, with scars across his forehead and a rim of stringy white hair. His bathrobe was splattered with ketchup, and he kept stumbling around in fuzzy pink bunny slippers, swinging his gas powered weed whacker at the half-dozen harpies who were hovering over his picnic table.

He was clearly blind. His eyes were milky white, and usually he missed the harpies by a lot, but he was still doing a pretty good job fending them off.

"Back, dirty chickens!" he bellowed.

I wasn't sure why, but I had a vague sense that harpies were supposed to be plump. These looked like they were starving. Their human faces had sunken eyes and hollowed cheeks. Their bodies were covered in molting feathers, and their wing were tipped with tiny, shriveled hand. They wore ragged burlap sacks for dresses. As they dived for food, they seemed more desperate than hungry than angry.

If I'm right, in the story of Phineas the Harpies are part of his curse as they steal his food until he died. I would think the Harpies would have been plump at the time, but now that Phineas was armed with a weed whacker it probably wasn't so easy for them since he's a seer.

Still, I felt sorry for the Harpies.

 _WHIRRRR!_ The old man swung his weed whacker. He grazed one of the harpies' wings. The harpy yelped in pain and fluttered off, dropping yellow feathers as she flew.

Another harpy circled higher than the rest. She looked younger and smaller than the other ones, with bright-red feathers.

She watched carefully for an opening, and when the old man's back was turned, she made a wild dive for the table. She grabbed a burrito in her clawed feet, but before she could escape, the blind man swung his weed whacker and smacked her in the back so hard I winced. The harpy yelped, dropped the burrito, and flew off.

"Hey, stop it!" I yelled.

I was actually yelling at the blind old man, but the harpies took that the wrong way. They glanced at us and immediately fled. Most of them fluttered away and perched in the trees around the square, staring dejectedly at the picnic table. The red-feathered one with the hurt back flew unsteadily down Glisan Street and out of sight.

"Ha!" The blind man yelled in triumph and killed the power of his weed whacker. He grinned vacantly in my direction. "Thank you, strangers! Your help is most appreciated."

I bit back my anger as I silently reminded myself that we needed information from him.

"Uh, whatever." I approached the old guy, keeping one eye on the weed whacker. "I'm Percy Jackson. This is—"

"Demigods!" the old man said. "I can always smell demigods."

Hazel frowned. "Do we smell that bad?"

The old man laughed. "Of course not, my dear. But you'd be surprises how sharp my other senses because once I was blinded. I'm Phineas. And you—wait, don't tell me—"

He reached for my face and poked me in the eyes.

"Ow!" I complained.

"Son of Neptune!" Phineas exclaimed. "I thought I smelled the ocean on you, Percy Jackson. I'm also a son of Neptune, you know."

"Yeah, I heard," I grumbled.

Phineas turned to Hazel. "And here… Oh my, the smell of gold and deep earth. Hazel Levesque, daughter of Pluto. And next to you—the son of Mars. But there's more to your story, Frank Zhang—"

"Ancient blood," Frank muttered. "Prince of Pylos. Blah, blah, blah."

"Periclymenus, exactly! Oh, he was a nice fellow. I love the Argonauts!"

Frank's mouth fell open. "W-wait. Perry _who_?"

"Periclymenus—" I said as the info came to my mind, "The grandson of Neptune—back when the Greeks saw him as Poseidon—who took part in the quest with Jason of the Argonauts for the Golden Fleece up until his battle with Hercules. He—"

I stop for a moment of confusion as any info I might have remembered on Pericylmenus seem to have disappeared as fast as they appeared, like someone didn't want me to reveal it yet.

I shook it off, deciding to leave the info from there. "Wait if Frank is a descendant of Periclymenus, that would make him—"

"A Legacy of Neptune," Hazel said in shock.

"Not only that, but there are a few other things about your friend's history that he's only just been reminded of. Not to mention the story about his great-grandfather? He didn't _really_ destroy the camp. Now, what an interesting group. Are you hungry?"

The three of us were in total shock, but Frank had it worse as he looked like he just got ran over by a truck.

Phineas waved his hand at the picnic table. In the nearby trees, harpies shrieked miserably. As hungry as I was, I couldn't stand to think about eating with those poor bird ladies watching over him.

"Look, all we need is information," I said. "We were told—"

"—that the harpies were keeping my food away from me," Phineas finished, "and if you helped me, I'd help you."

"Something like that," I admitted.

Phineas laughed. "That's old news. Do I look like I'm missing any meals?"

He patted his belly, which was the size of an overinflated basketball.

"I guess not," I said.

Phineas waved his weed whacker in an expansive gesture, causing the three of us to duck.

"Things have changed, my friends!" he said. "When I first got the gift of prophecy, eons ago, it's true Jupiter cursed me. He sent the harpies to steal my food. You see, I had a big mouth. I gave away too many secrets that the gods wanted kept." He turned to Hazel. "For instance, you're supposed to be dead. And you—" He turned to Frank. "Your life depends on a burned stick."

I frowned. I knew Hazel was supposed to be dead, but I didn't know Frank's life depended on a burned stick.

Meanwhile Hazel looked as if she'd been slapped, and Frank looked like the truck backed up and run over him again.

"And you," Phineas turned to me. "You still bear the Mark of Achilles, and your only weak spot is right in your left armpit—well protected choice may I say—as long as you're wearing your armor at least.

I felt like I just took a jab to the chest. How did Phineas know about my Mark of Achilles, and how did he know where my vulnerable spot was when I wasn't even sure it was there?

"Other than that… well now, you don't even know who you really are! I could tell you, of course, but… ha! What fun would that be? And Brigid O'Shaughnessly shot Miles Archer in _The Maltese Falcon_. And Darth Vader is actually Luke's Father and Leila is Luke's twin sister. And the winner of the next Super Bowl will be—"

"Got it," Frank muttered.

Hazel gripped her sword like she was tempted to pommel-whip the old man, and I might join her. "So you talk too much, and the gods cursed you. Why did they stop?"

"Oh, they didn't!" the old man arched his bushy eyebrows like, _Can you believe it?_ "I had to make a deal with the Argonauts. They wanted information too, you see. I told them to kill the harpies, and I cooperate. Well, they drove those nasty creatures away, but Iris would let them kill the harpies. An outrage! So _this_ time, when my patron brought me back to life—"

"Your patron?" Frank asked.

Phineas gave him a wicked grin. "Why, Gaea, of course. Who do you think opened the Doors of Death? Your girlfriend here understands. Isn't Gaea your patron, too?"

Hazel drew her sword. "I'm not his—I don't—Gaea is not my patron!"

Phineas looked amused. If he heard the sword being drawn, he didn't seemed concern. "Fine, if you want to be _noble_ and stick to the losing side, that's your business."

"We're not going to lose this war!" I yelled.

"How would you know?" Phineas asked. "Gaea is walking. She already rewritten the rules of life and death! I'm alive, and in exchange for my help—a prophecy here, a prophecy there—I get my fondest wish. The tables have been turned, so to speak. Now I can eat all I want, all day long, and the harpies have to watch and starve."

He revved his weed whacker, and the harpies wailed in the trees.

"They're cursed!" the old man said. "They can eat only food from my table, and they can't leave Portland. Since the Doors of Death are open, they can't even die. It's beautiful!"

"Beautiful?" Frank protested. "They're living creatures."

"Not to mention they're doing their duty," I responded. "The duty of which Jupiter assigned them for _your_ punishment."

"Oh, I'm mad at Jupiter, too," Phineas agreed. "In time, Gaea will see that the gods are properly punished. Horrible job they've done, ruling the world. But for now, I'm enjoying Portland and getting revenge on these _monsters_. The mortals take no notice of me. They think I'm just a crazy old man shooing away pigeons!"

Hazel advanced on the seer. "You're awful!" she told Phineas. "You belong in the Field of Punishment!"

Phineas sneered. "One dead person to another, girlie? I wouldn't be talking. You started this whole thing! If it weren't for you, Alcyoneus wouldn't be alive!"

Hazel stumbled back.

"Hazel?" Frank's eyes got as wide as quarters. "What's he talking about?"

"Ha!" Phineas said. "You'll find out soon enough, Frank Zhang. Then we'll see if you're still sweet on your girlfriend."

"Enough!" I yelled. "I don't care what you have over Hazel. I won't let you use it against her, or any info you have against us. Now tell us where we can find Alcyoneus' lair before or else I'll destroy your precious weed whacker."

I pointed my sword at the weed whacker in Phineas' hands.

Phineas indirectly at me as if he was trying to find juicy info against me now. Judging from him grinding his teeth, he didn't have anything that wouldn't result to his weed whacker being destroyed. "Very well, but you'll have to do me a favor."

"Forget it," Hazel snapped. "You're working for the enemy. We should send you back to the Underworld ourselves."

"You could try." Phineas smiled. "But I doubt I'd stay dead very long. You see, Gaea has shown me the easy way back. And with Thantos in chains, there's no one to keep me down! Besides, if you kill me, you won't get my secrets."

I wanted to kill this guy, or at least destroy his weed whacker. But he was right about if we kill him now, and I have a feeling that if we destroy his only tool against the harpies he'll just get another one as soon as we're out of sight. Plus, right now, saving Camp Jupiter is our priority right now.

I gritted my teeth. "What's the favor?"

Phineas licked his lips greedily. "There's one harpy who's quicker than the rest. She's the only one I have trouble with. She's wily, that one. Always does her own thing, never roost with the others. She gave me these."

He pointed at the scars on his forehead. I got a feeling he was talking about that red harpy that flew off somewhere else.

"Capture that harpy," he said. "Bring her to me. I want her tied up where I can keep an eye on her… ah, so to speak. Harpies hates being tied up. It causes them extreme pain. Yes, I'll enjoy that. Maybe I'll even feed her so that she last longer."

I doubt that. In fact, I don't trust anything this guy says.

I looked at my friends. Judging from their expressions we agreed on it, but we'll need a Plan B if we're going to get information.

"Oh, go talk among yourselves," Phineas said breezily. "I don't care. Just remember that without my help, your quest will fail. And everyone you love in the world will die. Now, off you with you! Bring me a harpy!"


	27. Percy's POV Part XI

Merry Christmas to all my readers who celebrates Christmas, and happy holidays to those who don't.

 **Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

Sorry for reposting this chapter, but I had to add something at the end.

* * *

 **Percy's POV Part XI**

"We'll need some of your food." I shouldered my way around the old man. I don't know what this harpy liked specifically, so I grabbed whatever I can off the picnic table—a covered bowl of Thai noodles and mac-and-cheese sauce, and tubular pastry that looked like a combination burrito and cinnamon roll. I planned to use these to at least talk to the Harpy if we have to. If she was as smart as I think she is, she might know something we can use to get information out of Phineas.

"Come on, guys," I told my friends as I led them out of the parking lot.

We stopped across the street. I took a deep breath. The rain had slowed to a halfhearted drizzle. The cold mist felt good on my face."

"That man…" Hazel smacked the side of a bus-stop bench. "He needs to die. _Again_."

It was hard to tell in the rain, but Hazel seemed to be blinking back tears. Her long curly hair was plastered down the side of her face. In the gray light, her gold eyes looked more tin.

I remembered how confident she acted when they first met—taking control of the situation with the gorgons and ushering me to safety. She'd comforted me at the shrine of Neptune and made me feel welcome at camp.

Now I wanted to return the favor. I just wish I know what Phineas meant about Hazel and Alcyoneus.

"We'll get him," I promised. "I don't care what Phineas says. You're making good out of your new life. You're here on this quest to protect Camp Jupiter. Which is more good than I bet Phineas has done in both his lives."

"That's right! You're _nothing_ like him!" Frank balled his fist. He looked around like he was searching for anybody who might disagree with him—enemies he could hit for Hazel's sake. "She's a good person!" he yelled across the street. A few harpies squawked in the trees, but no one else paid us any attention.

Hazel stared at Frank. She reached out tentatively, as if she wanted to take his hand but was afraid he might vaporize.

Frank didn't seem to notice though, as he brought out his own spear and gripped it uneasily.

"I could intimidate that old man," Frank offered, "maybe scared him—"

"Frank, it's okay," I told him. "Let's keep that as a back-up plan along with destroying his _precious_ weed whacker. Besides, you've only got two more uses out of the spear, right?"

Frank scowled at the dragon's-tooth point, which had grown completely back overnight. "Yeah. I guess."

It still was pretty shocking for me to find out Frank was a legacy of Neptune. At first I thought maybe he might have been one of the descendants that didn't inherit powers of Neptune, but then I remember what Mars said about Frank's mom having talents.

If only I could remember more about the Argonaut grandson of Neptune—hoping it could give me clues to help Frank, but it seemed that any memory I might have had on the guy vaporized as quickly as they flood into my mind. Maybe it was too early for Frank to learn about his family gifts and Juno is making sure I don't spoil it for him by keeping the details of the story stored in my memory away from me.

But there was one thing that confused me… what did Phineas meant by Frank's life depending on burned stick? It also sounded like another story that was on the tip of my tongue.

Either way, I decided not to ask for explanations.

"I've got an idea." I pointed up the street. "The red-feathered harpy went that way. Let's see if we can talk to her and see if she knows something about Phineas we can use. In return we can feed her the food I got from the picnic table."

"You think that would work?" Hazel asked.

"I don't know, but you'd be surprise what someone would do when they're hungry," I said. "Just keep the other harpies away."

I uncovered the Thai noodles and unwrapped the cinnamon burrito. Fragrant steam wafted into the air as we started moving. Hazel and Frank had their weapons out as the other harpies fluttered after us, perching on trees, mailboxes, and flagpoles, following the smell of food.

I kept a tight grip on the food. I'd seen how quickly those harpies could snatch things. I didn't want to lose the only peace offering we have for the red-feathered harpy.

Finally, I spotted her, circling above a stretch of parkland that ran for several blocks between rows of old stone buildings. Paths stretched through the park under huge maple and elm trees, past sculptures and playground and shady benches. The place reminded me of some park. Maybe in my hometown? I couldn't remember, but it made me feel homesick.

We crossed the street and found a bench to sit on, next to a big bronze sculpture of an elephant, that made me feel like I should back away and not touch it.

"Looks like Hannibal," Hazel said.

"Except it's Chinese," Frank said. "My grandmother has one of those." He flinched. "I mean, hers isn't twelve feet tall. But imports stuff… from China. We're Chinese."

He looked at Hazel and me while we were trying hard not to laugh. "Could I just die from embarrassment now?" he asked.

"Don't worry about it, man," I said as finding out Frank was Chinese would explain his Asian mix complexion. "Let's see if we can make friends with a harpy."

I raised my Thai noodles and fanned the smell upward—spicy peppers and cheesy goodness. The red harpy circled lower.

"We won't hurt you," I called up in a normal voice. "We just want to talk. Thai noodles for a chance to talk, okay?"

The harpy streaked down in a flash of red and landed on the elephant statue.

She was painfully thin. Her feathery legs were like sticks. Her face would have been pretty except for her sunken cheeks. She moved in a jerky birdlike twitches, her coffee brown eyes darting restlessly, her fingers clawing at her plumage, her earlobes, her shaggy red hair.

"Cheese," she muttered, looking sideways. "Ella doesn't like cheese."

I hesitated. "Is your name Ella?"

"Ella. Aella. 'Harpy.' In English. In Latin. Ella doesn't like cheese." She said under one breath without making eye contact. Her hands snatched at her hair, her burlap dress, the raindrops, whatever moved."

"We have other food to offer," I said as I eyed the other harpies. "How about take us somewhere you can eat and we can talk in private."

"Impossible," Ella muttered.

"What if we can, will you talk?"

Ella glanced at me sideways, then looked into the air and started reciting to the clouds. "'A half-blood of the eldest gods shall turn sixteen against all odds.' Sixteen. You're sixteen. Page sixteen, _Mastering the Art of French Cooking_. 'Ingredients: Bacon, butter.'"

My ears were ringing. I felt a sharp pain in the back of my eyes, which I ignored.

"That's weird," Frank said.

"That sounded like a Prophecy," Hazel asked.

I decided to wave it off. "Ella, if we find a way to distract the other harpies, will you agree to our request?"

"Talk for food, yes."

I turned to the other harpies. I don't think I ever tried to use the Mist on Monsters before, but I guess now was better than never.

I handed Hazel the cinnamon burrito and walked up to the bigger harpies.

"Hey Ella's sisters!" I yelled.

The harpies turned to me just as I snapped my fingers and concentrated all my will into the Mist—wanting to make them think we were heading back to the food trucks with Ella and the food.

A strong breeze covered the area. For a moment nothing happened and the Harpies looked dazed and confused. But then they started squawking at each other and flew off.

I turned to my friends who were surprised and amazed at what just happened.

"Percy, you got to teach me how to manipulate the Mist," Frank said.

"Stephen King, _The Mist_. First published in 1980, then was reedited 1985, and was republished as a stand-alone paper book by Signet in October 2, 2007. Movie made based off it over a month later of that same year. Ella will show you to a private place to talk."

She flew off as we followed her. We didn't even have to go far as Ella took us to the top of a three-story red brick building. Unfortunately, Ella scuttled out sight over the roof, leaving us a single red feather fluttering down to the street.

Frank squinted at the sign on the building. "Multnomah County Library?"

"Maybe her nest is in there," Hazel suggested.

"One way to find out," I said, "Let's see if it's open."

We ran across the street into the lobby. While inside I thought to myself of how Annabeth would like this places. It was spacious and brightly lit, with big vaulted windows. Books and architect, that was definitely her.

I froze in my tracks.

"Percy?" Frank asked. "What's wrong?"

I tried desperately to concentrate. Where had those thoughts come from? Architect, books… I knew Annabeth was somehow the daughter of Minerva because of my dreams. Could that be related to how I know this?

Maybe, I slightly remember something about the Greeks seeing Minerva in her Greek form Athena as the goddess of architecture and wisdom and battle strategy. But before I could get any more out, the memory faded.

I slammed my fist into the bookshelf in frustration of my missing memories.

 _Juno, you better keep your word,_ I thought before noticing my friend's concern faces.

"I'm—I'm all right," I lied. "Just got dizzy for a second. Let's find Ella."

It took us a while, but we finally found a stairwell with roof access. At the top was a door with a handle alarm that someone propped open with a copy of _War and Peace._

 _Ella must of set this up,_ I thought.

Outside, Ella the harpy huddled in a nest of books under a makeshift cardboard shelter.

My friends and I approached her as I took out the Cinnamon Burrito.

"Here you go, Ella," I said.

Ella lunged and snatch it and started eating. "From his table. Good. 'Photosynthesis. Noun. Biology. The synthesis of complex organic materials.' 'It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness…'"

"What is she saying?" Frank whispered.

I stared at the mound of books around Ella. They all looked old and mildewed. Some had prices written in marker on the covers, like the library had gotten rid of them in a clearance sale.

It didn't take much to piece it together.

"She's quoting books," I guessed.

 _"Farmer's Almanac 1965,"_ Ella said. "'Start breeding animals, January twenty-sixth."

"Ella," I said, "have you read all of those?"

She blinked. "More. More downstairs. Words. Words calm Ella down. Words, words, words."

I picked up a random book—a tattered copy of _A History of Horseracing._ "Ella, do you remember the, um—" the moment I started reading the words started swimming around. "actually Frank, maybe you should pick out where Ella should recite."

I handed it to Frank who reluctantly nodded.

"Recite the third paragraph on page sixty-two—" Frank said.

"Secretariat," Ella said instantly, "'favored three to two in the 1973 Kentucky Derby, finished at standing track record of on fifty-nine and two fifths."

Frank closed the book and took a shaky breath. "She's a genius chicken." Which we took as 'word by word'.

"That's amazing," Hazel said.

I felt uneasy. I was starting to form a terrible idea why Phineas wanted to capture Ella, and it wasn't because she'd scratched him. I remembered that line she'd recited, _A half-blood of the eldest gods._ I was sure it was about me—at least those lines were.

"Ella," I said. "Can you eat anything that wasn't from you-know-who's table?"

"No, only from his table," Ella muttered.

"What if we find a way to break the curse," I said.

"It's impossible," she said. "'Recorded in English by Perry Como, 1970."

"You said the same about sending away the other harpies and I manage that," I stated.

"That human not like Haries, nope! The Mist won't fool him as easily, nope," Ella said.

"But he have something we can use against him," I insisted. "A fatal flaw or something.

"No! H-he wants to ch-chain Ella. He hurts Ella."

She tried to reach for the gash on her back.

I reached into my bag and took out my thermos of nectar. When I tried to scoot closer, she recoiled and started to shriek. I tried to explain about the healing properties of nectar, but

"Let me try," Hazel said.

"Sure," I handed her the canteen of nectar.

Amazingly enough Ella let Hazel treat her and the wound began to close.

Hazel smiled. "See? That's better."

"Phineas is bad," Ella insisted. "And weed whackers. And cheese."

"We won't let him hurt you again," I reassured. "But we need to trick him. He's a demigod right, don't demigods have a flaw in their personality."

Hazel nodded. "Nico told me of it. He refers it as a Fatal Flaw. Mortals and sometimes Gods have them, but for demigods it can be the one thing that decides if we become a hero or threat.

"Most importantly—" I said. "—if it became an issue in battle if we live another day or die."

Frank gulped as he spoke in a high voice, "Nice to know."

"Phineas must have one," I responded. "Even if he hasn't realized it yet. You must know him better than anybody."

"Ella, think carefully. You must have seen something—anything—that might throw off his visions. Something he can't help but do or feel or something that clouds his judgment," Hazel said.

"Like Personal Loyalty, Deadly Pride, Self-Doubt, Grudges." I didn't know where these were coming from and yet here I was listing them off like I seen them personally. "Attention seeking, Obsession, Power Hungry, Gulliblity."

"Gambling habits," Ella muttered.

"Gambling habits?" I asked.

"Phineas s-sees big things. Prophecies. Fates. God stuff. Not small stuff. Random. Exciting. And he's blind."

Frank rubbed his chin. "How is that a fatal flaw?"

That's when it clicked in my mind and I realized just how smart Ella really was.

"Not gambling habits exactly but rather the temptation that comes from it," I said. "Phineas sees the future. He knows tons of important events. But he can't see small things—like random occurrences, spontaneous games of chance. That makes gambling exciting for him."

"So then his fatal flaw is temptation?" Frank asked.

I nodded. "If we can tempt him into making a bet…"

Hazel nodded slowly. "You mean if he loses, he has to tell us where Thantos is. But what do we have to wager? What kind of game do we play?"

"Something simple but with high stakes," I said, "Frank, do you still have the gorgon's blood?"

"Right here," Frank brought out the two ceramic vials.

"Perfect! Something Phineas can't turn down," I said.

"What do you mean?" Hazel asked.

"What do you think a blind person want more than anything?" I asked.

"Sight," Ella muttered. "Sight is good for blind men. Healing… nope, nope. Gaea won't do that for Phineas. Gaea keeps Phineas b-blind, dependent on Gaea."

Hazel's and Frank's eyes widened as Hazel said. "Percy, that's ingenious."

"Unless you get yourself killed," Frank stated. "Or backs out of his promise."

"Don't worry. I have a plan for that," I said.


	28. Percy's POV Part XII

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

Sorry for reposting this chapter, but I had to add something at the end.

* * *

 **Percy's POV Part XII**

The old man was right where we'd left him, in the middle of the food truck parking lot, once again fending off harpies. It seemed that Ella's sisters decided since they were fooled to come back to Phineas, they might as well stayed where there's more food.

I decided for the safety of Ella's sister's, I would use the Mist to convince them to fly off again.

"Thanks, lad. It's a shame you're working for the losing side. Gaea could use your gift of the Mist," Phineas called cheerfully. "I hear the fluttering of nervous wings. You've brought me my harpy?"

"She's here," I said. "But she's not yours."

Phineas milky eyes seemed fixed on a point just above my head. "I see… Well, actually, I'm blind, so I _don't_ see. Have you come to kill me, then? If so, good luck completing your quest."

"I've come to gamble."

The old man's mouth twitched. He lowered his weed whacker and turned toward me. "A gamble… how interesting. Information in exchange for a harpy? Winner take all?"

"No," I said, "I got something worth more to you than the harpy. A chance to return your eyesight."

Phineas seemed to hesitate. "I'm listening."

I looked toward my friends. Hazel was staying near Ella since she's the only that seemed to be able to get close to her without Ella squawking and twitching. Frank was by my side with his spear ready.

I brought out the ceramic vials. "We've got two flask of Gorgon's blood. One kills. One heals. They looked exactly the same. Even we don't know which is which. If you choose the right one, it could cure your blindness."

Phineas held out his hands eagerly. "Let me feel them. Let me smell them."

"Not so fast," I said. "First you agree to the terms."

"Terms…" Phineas was breathing shallowly. I could tell he was hungry to take the offer.

"That's right. After all we have as much to gain from gorgon's blood too," I responded, "As does my friends

"True," Phineas said realizing what I was talking about. You could gain the memories of your past, or cure Frank of his life dependency on a burned stick, or Hazel of her blackouts—either of which could have impact your quest depending on how you use it. For me, with prophecy _and_ sight… I'd be unstoppable. I could _own_ this city. I'd build my palace here, surrounded by food trucks. I could capture that harpy myself!"

"N-noo," Ella said nervously. "Nope, nope, nope."

Phineas gave his best villainous laugh, which wasn't hard to take serious with him wearing pink bunny slippers. "Very well, demigod. What are your terms?"

"You get to choose a vial," I said. "No uncorking, no sniffing before you decide."

"That's not fair! I'm blind."

"And I swear on the River of Styx none of us know which vial is which, so it is fair," I said as the sky thundered. "We'll drink at the same time. If you win not only will you have your eye sight back, but my friends won't stop you from whatever you plan to do with it. We win, not only one of us gets what we desire, but you have too give us the written down location of Alcyoneus and free the Harpies from their curse. And we _will_ agree on this on the River of Styx."

"Those are high stakes," Phineas grumbled. "You do realize that if either of you do this, you would be facing death."

"I know, that's why I'm doing this," I said.

"Wouldn't it be simpler just to hand over the harpy?"

"Not an option."

Phineas smiled slowly. "So you _are_ starting to understand her worth. Once I have my sight, I'll capture her myself, you know. Whoever controls that harpy… well, I was a king once. The gamble could make me king again, or send me back to the Underworld longer than just killing me."

"Do we have a deal?" I asked.

Phineas tapped his nose thoughtfully. "I can't foresee the outcome. Annoying how that works. A completely unexpected gamble… it makes the future cloudy. But I can tell you this, Percy Jackson. Although the gorgon's blood won't rid of you of your precious mark, the poison can still kill you with or without it. And even if you survive today, you're not going to like your future. A big sacrifice is coming, and you won't have the courage to make it. That will cost you dearly. It will cost the _world_ dearly. It might be easier just to choose the poison."

I didn't want to believe it. It sounded like Phineas was trying to psyche me out. But I remember Juno saying almost the same thing.

In the trees around the parking lot, the other harpies gathered to watch as if they sense what was at stake. Frank and Hazel studied my face with concern. I'd assured them the odds weren't as bad as fifty-fifty. I could live and regain my memories that could help us on this quest and help me find Annabeth, or die without keeping my promise of finding her after the battle.

Sure I have a plan that could assure my survival, but it might also backfire and cause my early death. But at the same time it was why I'm doing this. Because I'm the only one the plan could work out for. Otherwise I would be glad to let Frank be rid of his life dependency, or Hazel to be free of her blackouts.

"Do we have a deal?" I asked again.

Phineas grinned. "I swear on the River Styx to abide by the terms, just as you described."

"We also swear," Frank Hazel and I said at the same time.

"Swear," Ella muttered. "'Swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon.'"

Phineas laughed. "In that case, find me something write with. Let's get started."

Frank borrowed a napkin and a pen from a food truck vendor because there was _no way_ I was giving that guy my sword. Phineas scribbled something on the napkin and put it in his bathrobe pocket. "I swear this is the location of Alcyoneus' lair where Thantos is being kept. Not that you'll live long enough to read it."

I drew my sword and swept all the food off the picnic table. Phineas sat on one side and I sat on the other.

Phineas held out his hands. "Let me feel the vials."

I gazed at the hills in the distance. I imagined the shadowy face of a sleeping woman. I sent my thoughts into the ground beneath me and hoped the goddess was listening.

 _Okay, Gaea,_ I thought. _I'm calling your bluff. You say I'm a valuable pawn. You say you've got plans for me, and you're going to spare me until I make it north. Who's more valuable to you—me, or this old man? Because one of us is about to die._

I handed Phineas the vials.

The old man compared their weight. He ran his fingers along the ceramic surface. Then he set them both on the table and rested one hand lightly on each. A tremor passed through the ground—a mild earthquake, just strong enough to cause my teeth to chatter. Ella cawed nervously.

The vial on the left seemed to shake slightly more than the one on the right.

Phineas grinned wickedly. He closed his fingers around the left hand vial. "You were a fool, Percy Jackson. I choose this one. Now we drink."

I took the vial on the right. My teeth were chattering.

The old man raised his vial. "A toast to the sons of Neptune."

We uncorked our vials and drank.

Immediately, I doubled over, my throat burning. My mouth taste like gasoline.

"Oh gods," Hazel said behind me.

"Nope!" Ella said. "Nope, nope, nope."

My vision blurred. I could see Phineas grinning in triumph, sitting straighter, blinking his eyes in anticipation.

"Yes!" he cried. "Any moment now, my sight will return!"

I felt like broken glass was working its way through my stomach, into my intestines. Could it be I picked wrong?

"Percy!" Frank gripped my shoulders. "Percy, you can't die!"

Just as Frank said that a memory came to my mind. It was of an old man with wild gray hair wearing clothes made out of snake skin. I quickly recognized him as Halcyon Green: the son of Apollo who had the gift of prophecy and was locked up in his apartment with invulnerable voice mimicking monsters called Leucrota who were charmed to speak for him after having his voice removed and been cursed for saving someone from an event she was meant to die in through his gift.

He seemed to read my palm or something with his eyes closed. Then he looked up at me as if I was the greatest thing that ever happened to him. Then he turned to his computer and typed which was set up where I can read: _You will be one of the seven greatest heroes of your generation… possibly of all time_.

Then the memory faded like a short flashback as I gasped for air as suddenly my vision cleared.

At the moment, Phineas hunched over like he'd been punched.

"You—you can't!" the old man wailed. "Gaea, you—you—"

He staggered to his feet and stumbled away from the table, clutching his stomach. "I'm too valuable!"

Steam came out of his mouth. A sickly yellow vapor rose from his ears, his beard, his blind eyes.

"Unfair!" he screamed. "You tricked me!"

He tried to claw the piece of paper out of his robe pocket, but his hands crumbled, his fingers turning to sand.

I rose unsteadily. Other than that brief flashback, I didn't feel _cured_ of anything in particular, but I guess that flashback was a sign that my memories were slowly returning.

"No one tricked you," I said. "You made your choice freely, and I hold you to you to your oath."

The blind king wailed in agony. He turned in a circle, steaming and slowly disintegrating until there was nothing left but an old, stained bathrobe and a pair of bunny slippers.

"Those," Frank said, "Are the most disgusting spoils of war _ever_."

A woman's voice spoke in my mind. _A gamble, Percy Jackson._ It was a sleepy whisper, with just a hint of grudging admiration. _You forced me to choose, and you_ are _more important to my plans than the old seer. But do not press your luck. When your death comes, I promise it will be much more painful than gorgon's blood._

I choose to ignore Gaea looked at my skin. It was hard to tell if it was still invulnerable.

I took my sword and slashed down at my left hand.

"Percy, what are you doing?" Frank yelled.

I didn't answer as I went through and hit my skin. The blade bounced right off my skin as if I was wearing armor.

"I guess that means my Mark is still intact," I said.

"Percy—how—" Frank said.

"I'll explain later," I said, "Along with something else I learned."

Meanwhile Hazel prodded the robe with her sword. There was nothing underneath—no sign that Phineas was trying to re-form.

"I guess Phineas was right about not re-forming for a while," I said.

"Yeah, but how did you know?" Hazel asked.

"Gaea," I said. "She _wants_ me to make to make it to Alaska to be part of some plan that I want nothing part of. Still, it was the only edge I had over Phineas."

Frank stared in horror at the remains of the old man. "Gaea will kill her own servant rather than you? That's what you were betting on?"

"And why I couldn't ask you or Hazel to take the bet," I said.

"Plans," Ella muttered. "Plans and plots. The lady in the ground. Big plans for Percy. Use his vulnerable spot against him."

I took out the macrobiotic jerky. "Here, Ella. Your first curse free meal! Curtesy of the goddess Iris."

Ella swooped in and snatch whole bag of jerky. She squealed with joy. "Nope, nope, nope," she muttered half-singing. "Phineas, nope. Food and words for Ella, yep. Iris is Ella's sister. Iris knows what Ella likes."

At least _someone_ likes that stuff. Plus, I'm certain this is what Iris meant by I will be needing the macrobiotic jerky.

I crunched over the bathrobe and pulled the old man's note out of the pocket. It read: _HUBBARD GLACIER_.

All that risk for two words. I handed the note to Hazel.

"I know where that is," she said. "It's pretty famous even to the mortals in Alaska. But we've got a long, long way to go."

In the trees around the parking lot, the other harpies finally overcame their shock. They squawked with excitement and flew to the nearest food trucks' windows of their choice and raided the kitchens. The cooks shouted in many languages. Trucks shook back and forth. Feathers and food boxes flew everywhere.

"We'd better get back to the boat," I said. "We're running out of time."


	29. Hazel's POV Part IX

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes' 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero' and 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

Sorry for reposting this chapter, but I had to add something at the end.

* * *

 **Hazel's POV Part IX**

Even before I got on the boat, I felt queasy.

I kept thinking about Phineas with steam coming out of his eyes, his hands crumbling to dust. Percy had assured me that my past doesn't matter now, and that it's the actions I was talking now that matter. But it was hard for me to believe when _I_ was the one who started it all.

As we sped down the Columbia River, I tried to forget. I helped Ella make a nest out of old books and magazines we'd liberated from the library's recycling bin.

We'd hadn't really planned on taking the harpy with us, but Ella acted like the matter was decided.

 _"Friends,"_ she muttered. "'Ten seasons. 1994 to 2004.' Friends melt Phineas and gave Ella jerky. Ella will go with her friends."

Now she was roosting comfortably in the stern, nibbling bits of jerky and reciting random lines from lines from Charles Dickens and _50 Tricks to Teach Your Dog_.

Percy was at the bow told us about his flashback and what he remembered out of it while still controlling the boat. Frank was at the center bench, our shoulders touching, which made me feel as jittery as a harpy.

I remembered how Frank stood up for me in Portland, shouting, "She's a good person!" like he was ready to take on anybody who denied.

I remembered the way he had looked on the hillside in Mendocino, alone in a clearing of poisoned grass with his spear in hand, fire burning all around him and the ashes of three basilisks at his feet.

A week ago, if someone had suggested that Frank was a child of Mars and legacy of Neptune, I would have laughed. Frank was much too sweet and gentle to be a child of Mars and I would never guess his family ancestry would make him a descendant of Neptune. I had always felt protective of him because of his clumsiness and his knack for getting in trouble.

But after we left camp, I started to see him differently. He had more courage than I'd realized. He was the one looking out for _me_. I had to admit that the change was kind of nice.

Although right now Frank doesn't seem as heroic arguing with Percy about his flashback as the river widened into the ocean and the _Pax_ turned north.

"Wait, so Halcyon _was_ like Phineas?" Frank asked.

"No, no. At least not pure evil. Halcyon was punished for defying the fates to save a life," Percy said.

"But he let people get killed by his curse."

"Halcyon had no control over what the leucrotas did," Percy said. "They were supposed to be reminders that his voice would only bring pain, but being actual monsters they were, I guess they got restless and hungry waiting for their next meal so they decided to attract their own prey, and over times of seeing so many people dying trying to save him that he gave up hope to the point he just let it be."

"Then how are you alive?" Hazel asked.

Percy frowned. "That part is hazy."

"But wait, what about when you tried to cut off your hand?" Frank asked.

"Percy wasn't trying to cut off his hand," I said.

Percy and I ended up explaining how Percy is mostly invulnerable except for one part of his body, which according to Percy he now knows was under his armpit.

"So you're really are invulnerable," Frank said. "That explains a lot. Except, why did you keep fending off attacks when your only vulnerable spot is protected?"

"Reyna told Percy to keep his blessing a secret," I explained.

"Greek blessing, Achilles' mark. Iliad. Makes one invulnerable. Except for one spot—their life line. Multiplies powers. Also tires the user out quicker. Only obtained when someone survives a swim in the Styx river," Ella muttered.

"Seriously?" Frank asked. "No offense but it sounded more like a curse than a blessing."

Percy shrugged. I never thought of it that way, but now that I have, Frank was right. The Mark of Achilles was more of a curse than a blessing.

At this point I started to feel bad. Percy and Frank were willing to risk so much for me and yet they didn't know why I was dead in the first place.

The sky started to darken, the sea turning the same rusty color as Ella's wings. June 21 was almost over. The Feast of Fortuna would happen that evening, exactly seventy-two hours from now.

Frank brought out sodas and muffins he scavenged from Phineas' table and gave them to us. He must of noticed that I was in a down mood and figured it was still about what Phineas said.

"It's okay, Hazel," he said quietly. "My mom used to say you shouldn't try to carry a problem alone. But if you don't want to talk about it, that's okay."

I took a shaky breath. I was afraid to talk—not just because I was embarrassed. I didn't want to black out and slip into the past. But I knew I couldn't hide it anymore.

"You don't understand," I said. "I'm… I'm not just an escapee, I did something horrible."

I felt like the dam had broken. The story flooded out. I explained how my mother had summoned Pluto and fallen in love with the god. I explained my mother's wish for all the riches in the earth, and how that had turned into my curse. I described my life in New Orleans—everything except my boyfriend Sammy. Looking at Frank, I couldn't bring myself to talk about that.

I described the voice, and how Gaea had slowly taken over my mother's mind. I explained how we had moved to Alaska, and how I had helped raised the giant Alcyoneus, and how I had died, sinking the island into Resurrection Bay.

I knew Percy and Ella were listening, but I spoke mostly to Frank. When I finished, I was afraid to look at him. I waited for him to move away from me, maybe tell her she _was_ a monster after all.

Instead, Frank took my hand. "You sacrificed yourself to stop the giant from waking. I could never be that brave."

I felt my pulse throbbing in my neck. "It wasn't bravery. I let my mother die. I cooperated with Gaea too long. I almost let her win."

"Hazel," Percy said. "You stood up to a goddess all by yourself. You said it yourself, if you didn't stop Gaea when you did, the Giant War would have restarted here in the United States while the rest of Olympus was dealing with World War II."

Percy paused for a moment. "Nico didn't find you in Elysium, did he?"

"No. I didn't go to Elysium." My mouth felt dry as sand. "Please don't ask…"

But it was too late. I remember my descent into the darkness, my arrival on the banks of the River Styx, and my consciousness began to slip.

"Hasel?" Frank asked.

"Slip Sliding Away," Ella muttered. "Number five U.S. single. Paul Simon. Frank, go with her. Simon says, Frank, go with her."

I had no idea what Ella was talking about, but my vision darkened as I clung to Frank's hand.

I found myself back in the Underworld. Only this time, Frank was with me, by my side.

We stood in Charon's boat, crossing the Styx. Debris swirled in the dark waters—a deflated birthday balloon, a child's pacifier, a little plastic bride and groom from the top of a cake—all the remnants of human lives.

"Wh-where are we?" Frank stood at my side, shimmering with a ghostly purple light as if he'd become a Lar.

"It's my past." I felt strangely calm even though I had _no_ idea why Frank was here. He wasn't even born yet when I made my descent. "It's just an echo. Don't worry."

The boatman turned and grinned. One moment he was handsome African man in an expensive suit. The next moment he was a skeleton in a dark robe.

"'Course you shouldn't worry," he said with a British accent. He addresses me, as if he couldn't see Frank at all. "Told you I'd take you across, didn't I? 'Sall right you don't have a coin. Wouldn't be proper, leaving Pluto's daughter on the wrong side of the river."

 _This must be Charon_ , I thought as I realized his skeleton form looked exactly how Gwen described him. I'm not surprise I didn't recognize him until now. Back then I didn't think much of him other than the fact he gave me a free ride across the Styx.

The boat slid onto a dark beach. I led Frank to the black gates of Erebos. The spirits parted for us, as if sensing I was a child of Pluto. The giant three-headed dog Cerberus growled in the gloom, but he let us pass. Inside the gates, we walked into a large pavilion and stood before the judges' bench. Three black-robed figures in golden masks stared down at me.

Frank whimpered. "Who—"

"They'll decide my fate here in the underworld," I explained. "Watch."

Just as before, the judges asked me questions. They didn't have too. I guess because even after death some spirits lie to try to get to the field of their choice. So instead of asking me questions, they simply looked into my mind, pulling thoughts from my head and examining them like a collection of old photos.

"Thwarted Gaea," the first judge said. "Prevented Alcyoneus from waking."

"But she raised the giant in the first place," the second judge argued. "Guilty of cowardice, weakness."

"She is young," said the third judge. "Her mother's life was in the balance."

Naturally, like I did with all my memories, I went along with the memory. Frank was here, I might as well show him how my judgement went.

"My mother." I found the courage to speak. "Where is she? What is her fate?"

The judges regarded me, their golden masks frozen in creepy smiles. "Your mother…"

The image of my mother Marie Levesque shimmered above the judges. She was frozen in time, hugging me as the cave collapsed, her eyes shut tight.

"That's your mom?" Frank asked in amazement.

The judges ignored Frank as Charon did. I guess because Frank wasn't actually there during the actual events and yet I somehow pulled him in, I'm the only one that can hear, see, and talk to him.

"An interesting question," the second judge said prior to my question about my mother. "The division of fault."

"Yes," said the first judge. "The child died for a noble cause. She prevented many deaths by delaying the giant's rise. She had the courage to stand against the might of Gaea."

"But she acted too late," the third judge said sadly. "She is guilty of aiding and abetting an enemy of the gods."

"The mother influenced her," said the first judge. "The child can have Elysium. Eternal Punishment for Marie Levesque."

"No!" I shouted. "No, please! That's not fair."

The judges tilted their heads in unison. Gold masks, I thought. Gold has always been a curse for me. I wondered if the gold was poisoning their thoughts somehow, so that they'd never give her a fair trial."

"Beware, Hazel Levesque," the first judge warned. "Would you take full responsibility? You could lay this guilt on your mother's soul. That would be reasonable. You were destined for great things. A path that is unheard of for children of Pluto to follow. Yet your mother diverted your path. See what you might have been…"

Another image appeared above the judges. I saw myself as a little girl, grinning, with her hands covered in finger paint.

The image ages. I watched myself growing up—my hair becoming longer, my eyes sadder. I saw myself on my thirteenth birthday, riding across the fields on my borrowed horse. Sammy laughed as he raced after me: _What are you running from? I'm not that ugly, am I?_ (I'm getting this feeling I'll be explaining that to Frank later). I also saw myself in Alaska, trudging down Third Street in the snow and darkness on my way home from school.

Then the image aged even more. I saw myself at twenty. I looked so much like my mother, my hair gathered back in braids, my golden eyes flashing with amusement. I wore a white dress—is that a wedding dress? Not only that, but I was smiling warmly, and I knew I must be looking at someone special—someone I loved.

The sight didn't make me feel bitter. I didn't even wonder whom I would have married. Instead I thought: _My mother might've looked like this if she'd let go of her anger, if Gaea hadn't twisted her._

"You lost this life," the first judge said simply. "Special circumstances. Elysium for you. Punishment for your mother."

"No," I said. "No, it wasn't all her fault. She was misled. She _loved_ me. At the end, she tried to protect me."

"Hazel," Frank whispered. "What are you doing?"

I squeezed his hand, letting him know silently that this was my choice.

Finally, the second judge sighed. "No resolution. Not enough good. Not enough evil."

"The blame must be divided," the first judge agreed. "Both souls will be consigned to the Fields of Asphodel. I'm sorry, Hazel Levesque. You could have been a hero and brought back honor to your father."

I passed through the pavilion, into yellow fields that went forever. I led Frank through a crowd of spirits to a grove of black poplar trees.

"You gave up Elysium," Frank said in amazement, "so your mother wouldn't suffer?"

"She didn't deserve Punishment," I said.

"But… what happens now?"

"Nothing for eternity," I said.

"At least until your brother finds you," Frank said.

I nodded as he was right.

We drifted around aimlessly. Spirits around us chattered like bats—lost and confused, not remembering their past or even their names. Nico told me there was a ritual that gives the spirits back their memory when summoned that only a child of Pluto with powers over the dead can perform. But as soon as they return to the fields they came from their memories seemed to vanish.

And yet I can remember everything that happened down here. Perhaps that was because I was the daughter of Pluto.

"Remembering made my afterlife harder," I told Frank, who still drifted next to me as a glowing purple Lar. "So many times I tried to walk to my father's palace…" I pointed to a large black castle in the distance. "I could never reach it. I can't leave the Fields of Asphodel."

"Did you ever see y0ur mother again?"

I shook my head. "She wouldn't know me, even if I could find her. These spirits… it's like an eternal dream for them, an endless trance. This is the best I could do for her."

Time was meaningless, but after an eternity, Frank and I sat together under a black poplar tree, listening to the screams from the Fields of Punishment. In the distance, under the artificial sunlight of Elysium, the Isles of the Blest glittered like emeralds in a sparkling blue lake. White sails cut across water and the souls of great heroes basked on the beaches in perpetual bliss.

"You didn't deserve Asphodel," Frank protested. "You should be with the heroes."

"This is just an echo," I said. "We'll wake up, Frank. It only _seems_ like forever."

"That's not the point!" he protested. "Y0ur life was taken from you. You were going to grow up to be a beautiful woman. You…"

His face turned a darker shade of purple. "Y0u were going to marry someone," he said quietly. "You would have a good life. You lost all that."

I swallowed back my sob. It hadn't been this hard in Asphodel the first time, when I was on my own. Having Frank here with me made me feel so much sadder. But I was determined not to get angry about my fate.

I thought about that image of myself as an adult, smiling and in love. I knew it wouldn't take much bitterness to sour her expression and make me look like Queen Marie. _I deserve better,_ my mother always said. I couldn't allow myself to feel that way.

 _Anger leads to grudges, and grudges always lead to children of Pluto becoming threats instead of heroes,_ I thought to myself.

"I'm sorry, Frank," I said. "I think your mother was wrong. Sometimes sharing a problem doesn't make it easier to carry."

"But it does." Frank slipped his hand into his coat pocket. "In fact… since we've got eternity to talk, there's something I want to tell you."

He brought out an object wrapped in cloth, about the same size as a pair of glasses. When he unfolded it, I saw a half-burned piece of driftwood, glowing with purple light.

That's when it dawned to me. "Is that the burned stick Phineas mentioned?"

"Yeah," Frank replied. "This is my lifeline—my Achilles heel, I guess you could say."

Frank started telling me how the goddess Juno had appeared when he was a baby, how his grandmother snatched the piece of wood from the fireplace. "Grandmother said I had gifts—some talents we got from our ancestor the Argonaut who was the grandson of Neptune. That, and my dad being Mars…" I shrugged. "I'm supposed to be something. That's why my life can burn up so easily. Iris said I would die holding this, watching it burn."

Frank turned the piece of tinder in my fingers. Even in his ghostly purple form, he looked so big and sturdy. I figured he would be huge when he was an adult—as strong and healthy as an ox. I couldn't believe his life depended 0n a stick.

"Frank, how can you carry it around with you?" I asked. "Aren't you terrified something will happen to it?"

"That's why I'm telling you. I thought of following Percy's example and putting it somewhere on me that is well protected, but this might be safer." He held out the firewood. "I know it's a lot to ask, but would you keep it for me?"

My head spun. Until now, I'd accepted Frank's presence in my blackout. I'd led him along, numbly replaying my past, because it seemed only fair to show him the truth.

But now I wonder if Frank was meant to experiencing this with me, that if by being the legacy of Neptune—even through ancient blood—he was the one who my father foretold would wash away my curse instead of Percy, and in return he's entrusting his life line to me. But still, I had to be certain.

"Frank," I starts to say, you _know_ who I am. I'm Pluto's daughter. Everything I touch goes wrong. Why would you trust me?"

"You're my best friend." He placed the firewood in my hands. "I trust you more than anybody."

That's when a shadow fell over us.

"Our ride is here," Frank guessed.

I'd almost forgotten I was reliving my past. Nico di Angelo stood over me in his black overcoat, his Stygian iron sword at his side. He didn't notice Frank—as expected—but he locked eyes with me and seemed to read my whole life.

"You're different," he said. "A child of Pluto. You remember your past."

"Yes," I said. "And you're alive."

Nico studied me like he was reading a summary of a book as if deciding whether or not I'm the one he's searching for but wanted to be sure.

"I was once told I would bring a sibling back from the dead and help her live their destiny that was cut short and continue bringing honor to our father. With Death gone missing, I took it as a sign to search for such a sibling. And it appears I have found one."

"Wait—you're saying you're here to bring me back from the dead?" I asked. "Is that possible?"

"With Death missing, yes. But we must do this without any of the spirits noticing. Otherwise, the other spirits might try to do the same," Nico said as he held out his hand. "So how about we bring you back from the dead, sister."


	30. Hazel's POV Part X

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

Sorry for reposting this chapter, but I had to add something at the end.

* * *

 **Hazel's POV Part X**

"Hazel." I woke up to Percy shaking my shoulder. "Wake up. We reached Seattle."

I sat up groggily, squinting in the morning sunlight. "Frank?"

Frank groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Did we just… was I just—?"

"You both passed out," Percy said. "I don't know why, but Ella told me not to worry about it. She said you were… sharing?"

"Sharing," Ella agreed. She crouched in the stern, preening her wing feathers with her teeth, which didn't look very effective form of hygiene—at least not to me. She spited out some red fluff. "Sharing is good. No more blackouts, August 14, 2003. Hazel shared. No more blackouts. Curse cured. Now Hazel can share her past at will."

Percy scratch his head. "Yeah… we've been having conversations like that all night. I understand the no more blackout part, but that's it."

I pressed my hand against my coat pocket. I could feel the piece of firewood, wrapped in cloth—which I placed in my coat before the vision ended.

I looked at Frank. "You _were_ there."

He nodded. He didn't say anything, but his expression was clear: He meant what he said. He wanted me to keep his lifeline safe. I wasn't sure whether I should feel honor or scared. No one had ever trusted me with something so important.

"So wait…" Percy said. "You mean you guys _shared_ a blackout and now Hazel is cured of it? How does that work out?"

Ella just said. "No more blackouts. No more curse. Nope, nope, nope, nope. Share at will. More books for Ella. Books in Seattle."

I gazed over the water. We were sailing through a large bay, making our way toward a cluster of downtown buildings. Neighborhoods rolled across a series of hills. From the tallest one rose an odd white tower with a saucer on the top, like a spaceship from the old Flash Gordon movies Sammy used to love.

No more curse? I thought. No more blackouts?

It sounded too good to be true after enduring both for so long, especially the curse. Yet if Frank truly is a descendant of Neptune, then Pluto's prediction did come true. Not to mention I _did_ feel different… more grounded, as if I wasn't trying to live in two time periods anymore. Every muscle in my body began to relax. I felt as if I'd finally slipped out of a lead jacket I'd been wearing since I was brought back to life. All because I shared the rest of my past with Fran.

But something else bother me. What did Ella mean I can share at will now? Does she mean what Frank and I went through during the blackout, only this time at will? How can I do that if I have no more blackouts? Maybe Nico can tell me if I make it out of this quest alive. Assuming if I do.

Percy steered the boat toward the downtown docks. As we got closer, Ella scratched nervously at her nest of books.

I started to feel edgy, too. I wasn't sure why. It was a bright, sunny day, and Seattle looked like a beautiful place, with inlets and bridges, wooded inlands dotting the bay, and snowcapped mountains rising in the distance. Still, I felt as if we were being watched.

"Um… why are we stopping here?" I asked.

Percy showed them the silver ring on my necklace. "Reyna has a sister here. She asked me to find her and show her this."

"Reyna has a _sister_?" Frank asked, like the idea terrified him.

Percy nodded. "Reyna thinks her sister could send the camp the help they need."

"Amazons," Ella muttered. "Amazon country. Hmm. Ella will find libraries instead. Doesn't like Amazons. Fierce. Shields. Swords. Pointy. Ouch."

Frank reached for his spear. Amazons? Like… female warriors?"

"That would make sense," Hazel said. "If Reyna's sister is also a daughter of Bellona, I can see why she'd joined the Amazons. But… is it safe for us to be here?"

"Nope, nope, nope," Ella said. "Get books instead. No Amazons."

"You can get books, Ella and we'll call for you when we're done. It wouldn't be right to ask you to come with us to deal with the Amazons. But I need to confront them," Percy said. "I promised Reyna. Besides, the _Pax_ isn't doing too great. I've been pushing it pretty hard."

I looked down at my feet. Water was leaking between the floorboards. "Oh."

"Yeah," Percy agreed. "We'll either need to fix it or find a new boat. I'm pretty much holding it together with my willpower at this point. Ella, do you have any idea where we can find the Amazons?"

"And, um," Frank said nervously, "they don't, like, kill men on sight, do they?"

Ella glanced at the downtown docks, only a few hundred yards away. "Ella will take Percy's advice. Ella will find friends later. Ella will fly away now."

And she did.

"Well…" Frank picked a single red feather out of the air. "That's encouraging."

Percy frowned for a bit: "Anyone else got this feeling Ella might know something else about the Amazons than what she's letting on?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I don't know, it just—I can't help but shake this feeling that we're not the only ones who thought of turning to the Amazons for help."

A shiver went down my back as I realize what Percy meant. What if Gaea planned on this.

Frank looked paler than usual as I guess the realization might have dawn to him.

"Nothing we can do now," I said. "Besides, who knows… Reyna's sister might be more willing to help her sister than Gaea."

I didn't want to think that maybe Gaea might of planned for that as well, but it seem too help Percy and Frank calm down a little, although I think they did that in an act.

We docked at the wharf. We barely had time to unload our supplies before the _Pax_ shuddered and broke into pieces. Most of it sank, leaving only a board with painted eye and another with the letter _P_ bobbing in the waves.

"Guess we're not fixing it," I said. "What now?"

Out of nowhere we heard a _Blaaaah!_

"What was that?" Frank asked.

We turned to see a stormy gray goat glowing with power.

At first I was confuse to why any goat would be in the city, and what kind of creature it was since normal goats don't glow.

I turned to my friends. Frank was as confuse as I was but Percy looked dazed before his eyes widened.

"Amalthea!" Percy said.

"Who?" Frank asked.

My eyes widened as I recognize the name. "The immortal goat who nursed Jupiter as a baby while he was hiding from Saturn. But why is she here?"

"Maybe Juno persuaded Jupiter to send Amalthea to take us somewhere," Percy said.

"You seem to know a lot about her," Frank said.

"Amalthea helped me out a couple of times in the past. Once I think was under Junos command, but the other time is still hazy," Percy said.

"But wait, I thought were here to find the Amazons." Frank stated.

"Maybe that's why she's here," I suggested.

"One way to find out." Percy approached Amalthea. "Amalthea, show us where you were send here to lead us too."

When Percy said that Amalthea bolted.

"After her!" Percy yelled.

We chased after the magical goat.

…

I wish Percy told us how difficult it was to catch Jupiter's momma-goat was, because every time we were ten feet of her, she disappeared in a miniature storm cloud and reappeared further away. Percy says it's her way to make sure we don't lose her, but I question that.

I saw Ella a few times zooming between high-rise towers, a large book clutched in each foot. If she saw us chasing a goat she didn't led on. Then again she probably knows who we're chasing.

All the while, I was aware of the time ticking by. It was June 22 now, and Alaska was still a long way away.

Finally, our guide led us south of downtown, into a plaza surrounded by smaller glass and brick building, where Amalthea disappeared in a storm cloud and didn't show up anywhere else.

My nerves started tingling. I looked around, sure that we were being watched.

"You got to be kidding me," Frank said looking at building we were led too, "This must be some kind of joke."

"Clever. No one would of thought to look for them at the company named after themselves," Percy admitted.

I looked and saw they were looking at an office building that had a single word etched on the glass doors: AMAZON.

"Before we go in I think I should say until we find Reyna's sister Hylla, we should let Hazel do most of the talking," Percy stated. "And Frank it might be best we kept quiet unless we're spoken too for a while."

It was a strange request, but since we're about to enter the domain of man killing women, neither of us argued and agreed.

We walked through the doors.

The lobby was like an empty fish tank—glass walls, a glossy black floor. A few token, plants, and pretty much nothing else. Against the back wall, a black stone staircase led up and down. In the middle of the room stood a young woman in a black pantsuit, with long auburn hair and a security earpiece. Her name tag said KINZIE. Her smile seemed friendly, but her eyes reminded me of the policemen in New Orleans—at least back in my time—who used to patrol the French Quarter at night. They always seemed to look _through_ you, as if they were thinking about who might attack them next.

Kinzie nodded at me, ignoring the boys. "May I help you?"

"Um… I hope so," Hazel said. "We're looking for the Amazons. And we were led here by the she-goat Amalthea."

Kinzie looked at us as if expecting us to be kidding. She glanced at my sword and Frank's spear, though neither should have been visible through the Mist.

"Then you were led to the right place. This is the main campus for Amazons," she said cautiously. "Did you have an appointment with someone, or something?"

"No! We're actually from Camp Jupiter, and our Praetor: Reyna had send us here to talk to her sister Hylla while we're on our quest."

Kinziels suspicious look seem to grow as she said, "Hold on a second."

She headed out to talk into her earpiece. I stared back at my friends who were just as confused as me.

Percy shrugged like: _Just go with it._

Kinzie came back. "You're in luck, Queen Hylla has time to talk to you."

"Th-that's great," I said.

"However, she only agreed to talk to you under our circumstances," Kinzie said.

Before we could react a dozen more girls in black flooded up the staircase, swords in hand, and surrounded us.

"That until we're certain you speak the truth, we will hold you as our prisoners," Kinzie said.

…

The Amazon's confiscated all of our weapons including the armor we were wearing, our duffle bags, and Percy's thermos and sword-pen. How did they even know those were weapons?

We marched down so many flights of stairs, I lost count, until we emerged in a cavern so big it could have accommodated ten high schools, sports fields and all. Stark fluorescent lights glowed along the rock ceiling. Conveyor belts wound through the room like water slides, carrying boxes in every direction. Aisles of metal shelves stretched out forever, stacked high with crates of merchandise. Cranes hummed and robotic arms whirred, folding cardboard boxes, packing shipments, and taking things on and off the belts. Some of the shelves were so tall they were only accessible by ladders and catwalks, which ran across the ceiling like theaters scaffolding.

I remembered newsreels I'd seen as a child. I'd always been impressed by the scenes of factories building planes and guns for the war effort—hundreds and hundreds of weapons coming off the line every day. But that was nothing compared to _this_ , and almost all the work was being done by computers and robots. The only humans I could see were some black suited security women patrolling the catwalks, and some men in orange jumpsuits, like prison uniforms, driving forklifts through the aisles, delivering more pallets of boxes. The men wore iron collars around their necks.

"You keep _slaves_?" I knew it might be dangerous to speak at this point, but I was so outraged I had to speak. Even though I know Romans were known for keeping slaves in ancient times, but on my mother's side, I was a descendant of slaves so naturally the idea of slavery is a sensitive topic for me.

"The men?" Kinzie snorted. "They're not slaves. They just know their place."

I noticed Frank and Percy shifted uneasily. Percy looked like he wanted to say something but Frank jabbed him, silently reminding him of his plan. It might be for the best. Without his armor, Percy's life line wasn't as well protected. The gorgons might not of been lucky to find it, but I doubt a cavern full of Amazons would be as unfortunate as two Gorgons.

We kept walking for so long, my feet began to hurt. I thought we must surely be getting to the end of the warehouse when Kinzie opened a large set of double doors and led them into another cavern, just as big as the first.

"The _Underworld_ isn't this big," I complained. Okay, maybe I'm over reacting there, but my feet are aching so much it felt like this cavern was bigger than the Underworld… or at least the Fields of Asphodel.

Kinzie smiled smugly. "You admire our base of operations? Yes, out distribution system is worldwide. It took many years and most of our fortune to build. Now, finally, we're turning a profit. The mortals don't realize they are funding the Amazon kingdom. Soon, we'll be richer than any mortal nation. Then—when the weak mortals depend on us for everything—the revolution will begin!"

"What are you going to do?" Frank grumbled after I guess only taking so much silence. "Cancel free shipping?"

A guard slammed the hilt of her sword into his gut. Percy tried to help him, but two more guards pushed him back at sword point.

"You'll learn respect," Kinzie said. "It's males like you who have ruined the mortal world. The only harmonious society is one run by women."

"Like the Hunters?" Percy asked as a guard tried to push her sword further toward Percy. "I'm just asking? I don't have anything against the Hunters, really."

"It's true!" I responded, "In fact, I have a sister in the Hunters of Diana. Her name is Bianca di Angelo."

The guards shifted as they had the expression that told me they heard of Bianca's name.

"You're related to _the_ Bianca di Angelo," Kinzie said. "The daughter of Hades who summoned the spirits of fallen Hunters to help fight the Titan War."

"Well, we haven't met each other since the Hunters never came to Camp Jupiter, but yes I'm the daughter of Pluto, so Bianca is my sister," I said. "Why did you call my dad by his Greek name?"

Kinzie shifted as she had a new expression of respect toward me. Judging from the way she talked about Bianca, I guess my sister made an impact to even the Amazons and yet I never met her.

"We'll take you to our queen now," Kinzie said.

A guard grunted. "Perhaps it's better to take them straight to Otrera. Might win her favor that way."

"No!" Kinzie snarled. "I'd sooner wear an iron collar and drive a forklift. Hylla is queen."

"Until tonight," Another guard muttered.

"Enough," she said. "Let's go."

We crossed a lane of forklift traffic, navigated a maze of conveyor belts, and ducked under a row of robotic arms that were packing up boxes.

Most of the merchandise looked pretty ordinary: books, electronics, baby diapers. But against one wall sat a war chariot with a big bar code on the side. Hanging from the yoke was a sign that read: ONLY ONE LEFT IN STOCK. ORDER SOON! (MORE ON THE WAY)

Finally, we entered a smaller cavern that looked like a combination loading zone and throne room. The walls were lined with metal shelves six stories high, decorated with war banners, painted shields, and the stuffed head of dragons, hydras, giant lions, and wild boars. Standing guard along either side were dozens of forklifts modified for war. An iron-collared male drove each machine, but an Amazon warrior stood on a platform in back, manning a giant mounted crossbow. The prongs of each forklift had been sharpened into oversized sword blades.

The shelves in this room were stacked with cages containing live animals. I couldn't believe what I was seeing—black massifs, giant eagles, a lion-eagle hybrid that I guess was a gryphon, and red ant the size of a compact car.

One cage had a creature that looked like a hybrid of a horse, a lion anda a wolf with plate like teeth.

When Percy saw it, he nearly froze. "You have Leucrotae here?"

A guard tried to jab Percy in the back, but the blade of his sword just bounced off Percy's skin.

"What's a leucrotae?" I asked.

"deadly and possibly the most hardest monsters t0 kill," Percy growled as he glared at the monster.

"That's right. We lost a lot of good warriors just trying to catch that one. That one is especially special it is said to had the power to mimic the voice of a son of Apollo that died nearly ten years ago," Kinzie said. "Only in the last year it was reformed and we manage to catch it since it was so hard to kill."

"That's because they can only be killed by Greek Fire," Percy said. "The most powerful fire of all time."

Kinzie glared at Percy. "How would you know that?"

"Because I was there," Percy said.

Kinzie's glare hardened, but then I heard an old man say: "Come here, son of Poseidon. Come and greet your old friend,

At first I was confused until I took one more look at the Leucrota and noticed it was glaring at Percy.

At first Kinzie was in total shock but then she hardened her expression. "Come on."

As we continue, I watched in horror as a forklift zipped into the room, picked up a cage with a beautiful white pegasus, and sped away while the horse whinnied in protest.

"What are you doing to that poor animal?" I demanded.

Kinzie frowned. "The pegasus? It'll be fine. Someone must've ordered it. The shipping and handling charges are steep. But we only allow Amazons make such orders. We have followers all over the world. They need supplies and we supply them. We even supply the Hunters from to time in return they send us any Hunters that decided they want to grow up but still want to stay loyal to the Diana."

"Because the Amazons are as loyal to Diana as the Hunters, right?" Percy asked.

Kinzie glared at him but nodded. "That's right. We may not choose to be immortal like the Hunters, but we are loyal to goddess Diana."

"At least for now," another guard said.

"We are!" Kinzie yelled, "Now come on!"

At the end of the warehouse was a dais constructed from pallets of books: stacks of vampire novels, walls of James Patterson thrillers, and a throne made from about a thousand copies of something called _The Five Habits of Highly Aggressive Women_.

At the base of the steps, several Amazons in camouflage were having a heated argument while a young woman—Queen Hylla, I assumed—watched and listened from her throne.

Hylla was in her twenties, lithe and lean as a tiger. She wore a black leather jumpsuit and black boots. She had no crown, but around her waist was a strange belt made of interlocking gold links, like the pattern of a labyrinth. I couldn't believe how much she looked like Reyna—a little older, perhaps, but the same long black hair, the same dark eyes, and the same hard expression, like she was trying to decide which of the Amazons before her deserved death.

Kinzie took one look at the argument and grunted with distaste. "Otrera's agents, spreading their lies."

"What?" Frank asked.

"Wait, Otrera, as is the daughter of Mars who ruled the Amazons thousands of years ago after her mother?" Percy asked.

Kinzie scowled deepened and answer, "The very same."

Percy gave me a look, and I understood. Otrera being back from the dead might end up being our worse fears.

Then when I looked ahead, I stopped so abruptly, the guards behind me stumbled. A few feet from the queen's throne, two Amazons guarded a cage. Inside was a beautiful horse—not the winged kind, but a majestic and beautiful stallion with a honey-colored coat and a black mane. His fierce brown eyes regarded me, and I could swear he looked impatient, as if thinking: _About time you got here._

"It's him," I murmured.

Percy looked and his eyes widened. "Is that Arion? The immortal horse and son of Neptune _and_ Ceres?"

I didn't think it was possible but Kinzie scowled a bit more at Percy before her expression softened, realizing what we were talking about. "Ah, yes he is. Beautiful, isn't he?"

I couldn't believe my ears or eyes. This horse—the one I recognized as the one I chased in Alaska, was the immortal horse Arion. For me to find out that he was trying to lead me away from the island at Resurrection Bay decades ago. Since I took fond of horses, I paid much attention to stories about them, including Arion, so naturally I know a few things about Arion.

"Is he…" I could hardly control my voice. "Is he for sale?"

All of the guards laughed. Only Kinzie seem to understand my fascination.

"Arion's a royal treasure of the Amazons—to be claimed only by our most courageous warrior, if you believe the prophecy.

"Prophecy?" I asked.

Kinzie's expression became pained, almost embarrassed. "Never mind. But no, he's not for sale."

"Then why is he in a cage?"

Kinzie grimaced. "Because… he is difficult."

Just as she said that, Arion slammed his head against the cage doors. The metal bars shuddered, and the guards retreated nervously.

I wanted to free him. I wanted it more than anything I had ever wanted before. But Percy, Frank, and a dozen Amazon guards were staring at me, so I tried to mask my emotions. "Just asking," I managed. "Let's see the queen."

The arguing Amazons shut up immediately. The queen waved them aside and beckoned Kinzie forward.

Kinzie shoved my friends and me toward the throne. "My queen, these demigods—"

The queen shot to her feet. "You!"

She glared at Percy with murderous.

No doubt Percy's memory was returning, because he muttered in Ancient Greek before translating. "Clipboard, Spa, Pirates, saved, boat."

This made no sense to me, but the queen nodded. She stepped down from her dais of best sellers and drew a dagger from her belt.

"You were incredibly foolish to come here," she said. "Don't think I have forgiven you for destroying my home, just because you saved my sister's and my life."

"Percy," Frank said uneasily. "What's the scary woman with the dagger talking about?"

"Circe's Island," I said. "It took a while for it to come back to me, but the Gorgon's blood is definitely kicking in. The Sea of Monsters. Hylla… she welcomed Annabeth and me at the docks, took us to see her boss. Back then she and Reyna was working for the sorceress Circe."

Hylla bared her perfect white teeth. "Are you telling me you've had amnesia? You know, I might actually believed you. Why else would you be stupid enough to come here?"

"But I saved yours and Reyna's life from the pirates we released," I argued, "Even after you turned me into a guinea pig and threatened Annabeth."

"But you destroyed Circe's school of magic? Circe was a wise and generous employer. I had room and board, and a good health plan, dental, pet leopards, free potions—everything! And you and your blonde friend released our captives—Blackbeard and his pirates."

"We didn't intend to free Blackbeard! We didn't even know he and his crew were among the guinea pigs until it was too late," I argued, "Besides, from what I can tell you and Reyna survived getting off the island. Otherwise Reyna wouldn't be at Camp Jupiter and wouldn't have send us here to find you."

Hylla froze for a bit before frowning. "Reyna send you here?"

Percy reached f0r his beaded necklace and removed the silver ring. He handed it to Kinzie, who reluctantly took it and walked up to Hylla to hand it too her.

"This is my sister's all right," Hylla said. "Okay, you have my attention now. Explain."

Percy tried to explain what he can, with Frank and I chiming in details like how Reyna is the praetor and the army of monsters that was marching south. They also brought up their quest to free Thantos.

Hylla seemed interested when Kinzie brought up how I was the sister of Bianca di Angelo and how Percy knew how to destroy the Leucrota.

As we talked, another group of Amazons entered the room. One was taller and older than the rest, with plaited silver hair and fine silk robes like a Roman matron. The other Amazons made their way for her, treating her with such respect that I wondered if she was Hylla'a mother—until she noticed how Hylla and the older woman stared daggers at each other.

I decided to finish from there. "So we need your help," I finished my story. " _Reyna_ needs your help."

Hylla gripped the silver ring. "Reyna… that foolish girl—"

"Well!" the older woman interrupted. "Romans need our help?" She laughed, and the Amazons around her joined in.

"How many times did we battle the Romans in my day?" the woman asked. "How many times have they killed our sisters in battles? When I was queen—"

"Otrera," Hylla interrupted, "you are here as a guest. You are _not_ queen anymore. And since one of these heroes is sibling to a hunter to our patron goddess, unfortunately that makes them allies."

The older woman spread her hands and made a mocking bow. "As you say—at least, until tonight. But I speak the truth, _Queen_ Hylla." She said the word like a taunt. "I've been brought back by the Earth Mother herself! I bring tidings of a new war. Why should Amazons follow Jupiter, that foolish king of Olympus, or Diana who let her Hunters allied with _men_ in the last war."

"We were facing the same enemy," Percy broke out. "Even Diana recognized that the Hunters would be needed to fight for Olympus against the Titans."

Otrera looked at Percy with interest. "You act like you been there, _boy_. But despite what you say Diana has lost her ways, and it's time the Amazons follow a _queen_? When I take command—"

" _If_ you take command," Hylla said. "But for now, I am queen. My word is law."

"I see." Otrera looked at the assembled Amazons, who were standing very still, as if they'd found themselves in a pit with two tigers. "Have we become so weak that we listen to _male demigods_? Will you spare the life of this son of Neptune, even though he once destroyed your home? Perhaps you'll let him destroy your new home and take pity on you again."

I held my breath. The Amazons looked back and forth between Hylla and Otrera, watching for any sign of weakness.

"I will pass judgment," Hylla said in an icy tone, "once I have all the facts. That is how _I_ rule—by reason, not fear, and surely not gain pity. First, I will talk with this one." She jabbed a finger toward me. "It is my duty to hear out the female warrior before I sentence her or her allies to death. That is the Amazon way. Or have your years in the Underworld muddled your memory, Otrera?"

The older woman sneered, but she didn't try to argue.

Hylla turned to Kinzie. "Take these males to the holding cells. The rest of you, leave us."

Otrera raised her hand to the crowd. "As our _queen_ commands. But for any of you who would like to hear more about Gaea, and the glorious future with her, come with me!"

About half the Amazons followed her out of the room. Kinzie snorted with disgust, then she and her guards hauled Percy and Frank away.

Soon Hylla and me were alone except for the queen's personal guards. At Hylla's signal, even they moved out of earshot.

The queen turned toward me. Her anger dissolved, and I saw desperation in her eyes. The queen looked like one of her caged animals being whisked off on a conveyor belt.

"We must talk," Hylla said. "We don't have much time. By midnight, I will most likely be dead."


	31. Hazel's POV Part XI

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

Sorry for reposting this chapter, but I had to add something at the end.

* * *

 **Hazel's POV Part XI**

I have considered making a run for it.

I didn't trust Queen Hylla, and I certainly didn't trust that other lady, Otrera. Only three guards were left in the room. All of them kept their distance.

Hylla was armed with just a dagger. This deep underground, I might be able to cause an earthquake in the throne room, or summon a big pile of schist or gold. If I could cause a distraction, I might be able to escape and find my friends.

So why am I not doing that?

Because I don't know how well these Amazons can fight, and I wouldn't be surprise if Hylla is a better fighter than her sister. With me being unarmed that might be a problem. Especially since I'm carrying Frank's firewood that the Amazons didn't see as a weapon.

The queen seemed to be reading my thoughts. "Forget about escape. Of course, we'd respect you for trying. But we'd have to kill you."

"Thanks for the warning."

Hylla shrugged. "The least I can do. I believe you come in peace I believe you are the sister of Bianca di Angelo of the Hunters. I believe Reyna sent you."

"But you won't help?"

The queen studied her sister's ring. "It's complicated," she said. "Amazons have always had a rocky relationship with other demigods—especially _male_ demigods. We fought for King Priam in the Trojan War, but Achilles killed our queen at the time: Penthesilea. Years before that, Hercules stole Queen Hippolyta's belt—this belt I'm wearing. It took us centuries to recover it. Long before that, at the very beginning of the Amazon nation, a hero named Bellerophon killed our first queen Otrera—whom of which you just met—daughter of Ares."

"Don't you mean Mars?"

Hylla made a sour face. "No, definitely _Ares_. Otrera lived long before Rome, in a time when all demigods were Greek. Unfortunately, some of our warriors prefer the old ways. We're not supposed to be picky about the ways we choose, but as you can tell, it's not always easy. Especially children of Ares… they're the worse."

"The old ways…" I heard rumors about Greek demigods. Octavian believed they existed and were secretly plotting against Rome. But I'd never believed it, even when Percy came to camp. He just didn't strike to me as an evil, scheming Greek. "You mean the Amazons are a mix… Greek _and_ Roman?"

"As are the Hunters your sister is part of," Hylla said. "I suppose they don't teach you about that at Camp Jupiter. But I would of thought you knew that since you know Bianca di Angelo as your sister."

That confused me, and what's worse I didn't know how to respond since I haven't met Bianca personally yet.

"You two haven't met formally in person, have you?" Hylla said.

"Would you believe I only knew about her through our brother Nico?" I asked.

Judging from Hylla's expression it was hard to believe, but believable to her. "As I was saying, the gods have many aspects. Mars, Ares. Pluto, Hades. Being immortal, they tend to accumulate personalities. They are Greek, Roman, American—a combination of all the cultures they've influenced over the eons. Do you understand?"

"I—I'm not sure. Are all Amazons demigods?"

The queen spread her hands. "We all have some immortal blood. Even mortals descend from the immortals since Prometheus created the first mortal humans using mud and dirt. They just weren't created to possess powers or all the capabilities as the demigods. But many of my warriors are descended from demigods. Some have been Amazons for countless generations. Others are children of minor gods. Kinzie, the one who brought you here, is the daughter of a nymph. Ah—here she is now."

The girl with the auburn hair approached the queen and bowed.

"The prisoners are safely locked away," Kinzie reported. "But…"

"Yes?" the queen asked.

Kinzie swallowed like she had a bad taste in her mouth. "Otrera made sure _her_ followers are guarding the cells. I'm sorry, my queen."

Hylla pursed her lips. "No matter. Stay with us, Kinzie. We were just talking about our, ah, situation."

"Otrera," I guessed. "Gaea brought her back from the dead to throw you Amazons into a civil war."

The queen exhaled. "If that was her plan, it is working. Otrera is a legend among our people. She plans to take back the throne and lead us to war against the Romans. Many of my sisters will follow her."

"Not all," Kinzie grumbled.

"But Otrera is a spirit!" I argued. "She isn't even—"

"Real?" The queen studied me. "I worked with the sorceress Circe for many years. I know a return soul when I see one. When did _you_ die, Hazel—Nineteen twenty? Nineteen thirty?"

"Nineteen forty-two," I said. "But my brother Nico was the one who revived me, not Gaea. I'm here to continue the destiny I was cut short of by stopping Gaea and her giants, and become the greatest heroes of all time along with my friends Percy Frank and four others."

"Greatest heroes…" Hylla gazed at the rows of battle forklifts, now empty. "For so long I thought that boy Percy Jackson only saved our lives out of pity for destroying my old life. But the way he spoke about the alliance the hunters made, I'll admit that Otrera might be right about him being there when it was made."

Kinzie made a three finger claw over her heart, like the voodoo gestures my mom once used for warding off the Evil Eye.

"I'll admit when I heard ab0ut the Hunters alliance, I was tempted to assemble the Amazons to the Roman aid during their battle at Mount Tam. Even after the war was over the idea didn't leave my mind. But now, Otrera has returned with her plans to help Gaea and I fear I may not be queen for much longer."

"You will prevail!" Kinzie insisted.

"As the Fates decree," Hylla said without enthusiasm. "You see, Hazel, Otrera has challenged me to a duel. Every Amazon has that right. Tonight at midnight, we'll battle for the throne."

"But… you're good, right?" I asked.

Hylla managed a dry smile. "Good, yes, but Otrera is the founder of the Amazons."

"She's a lot older. She isn't aware of what children of Bellona can do—not completely at least. Maybe you can use that to your advantage."

"I hope you're right, Hazel. You see, it's a battle to the death…"

That sunk in hard. I remember what Phineas had said in Portland—how he had had a shortcut back from the death, thanks to Gaea. I remembered how the gorgons had tried to re-form in the Tiber. Even if Hylla did come back as Gwen did, chances were the moment Thantos is freed, Hylla will die again as it is for Gwen.

"You see my dilemma, right?" Hylla asked. "Otrera has already told us that she _can't_ die. So even if I manage to defeat her tonight, she'll simply return and challenge me again tomorrow. There is no law against challenging the queen multiple times. She can insist on fighting me every night, until she finally wears me down. I can't win."

I gazed at the throne. I imagine Otrera sitting there with her fine robes and her silver hair, ordering her warriors to attack Rome. I imagined the voice of Gaea filling this cavern.

"There has to be a way," I said. "What about the Hunters?"

"It's true that the Hunters can help us if we meet a need of common grounds but the title of Amazon Queen is a personal matter of the Amazons and they can't help me much more than I can choose who to be Artemis' Lieutenant. And since the Hunters don't have alliance with the Romans, I can't assure they will help."

"Wait, if the Hunters aren't allies with the Romans, then who are their alliance is too?" I asked.

"That is for your _friend_ Percy to tell you," Hylla said. "As for me, if I could, I would rally our troops and ride to my sister's aid. Unfortunately, my powers are tenuous. When I am killed in combat—and it's only a matter of time—Otrera will be queen once more. She will march to Camp Jupiter with our forces, but she will not go to help my sister. She'll go to join the giant's army."

"We've got to stop her," I urged. "My friends and I killed Phineas, one of Gaea's other servants in Portland. Maybe we can help!"

The queen shook her head. "You can't interfere. As queen, I must fight my own battles. Besides, your friends are imprisoned. If I let them go, I'll look weak. Either _I_ execute you three as trespassers, or Otrera will do so when she becomes queen."

My heart sank. Things were really looking bad.

In the corner cage, the stallion Arion whinnied angrily. He reared and slammed his hooves against the bars.

"The horse seems to feel your despair," the queen said. "Interesting. He's immortal, you know."

"Yeah, son of Neptune and Ceres," I said.

Hylla nodded. "He's the fastest horse in the world. He can run like the wind over land and sea. No creature is faster. It took us years to capture him—one of our greatest prizes. But it did us no good. The horse will not allow anyone to ride him. I think he hates Amazons. And he is expensive to keep. He will eat anything, but he prefers gold."

The back of my neck tingled. "He eats gold?"

I remember the horse following me in Alaska so many years ago. I had thought he was eating nuggets of gold that appeared in my footsteps.

I knelt and pressed my hand against the floor. Immediately, the stone cracked. A chunk of gold ore the size of a plum was pushed out of the earth. I stood, examining my prize.

Hylla and Kinzie stared at me.

"How did you?" the queen gasped. "Hazel, be careful."

I approached the stallion's cage. I remember my father saying how I would work have hard to get my horse, and now I realized what he meant. I worked hard all right, but not to buy a horse, but to make it too this point since I came back to life: gaining the Roman's trust, enduring the rumors, mastering my powers over tunnels and riches of the earth, so I could go on this quest that would lead me to the horse I'm destined to ride.

I put my hand between the bars, and Arion gingerly ate the chunk of gold from my palm.

"Unbelievable," Kinzie said. "The last girl who tried that—"

"Now has a metal arm," the queen finished. She studied me with new interest, as if deciding whether or not to say more. "Hazel… we spent years hunting for this horse. It was foretold that the most courageous female warrior would someday master Arion and ride him to victory, ushering in a new era of prosperity for the Amazons. Yet _no_ Amazon can touch him, much less control him. Even Otrera tried and failed. Two others died attempting to ride him."

That probably should've worried me, but I couldn't imagine this beautiful horse hurting me. I put my hand through the bars again and stroke Arion's nose. He nuzzled my arm, murmuring contentedly, as if asking. _More gold? Yum._

"I'll feed you later, I promise," I said as I turned to the queen.

Queen Hylla looked from the horse to me and back again. "Unbelievable."

"The prophecy," Kinzie said.

"Queen Hylla, if you can hold Otrera off until June 24th I swear on the river of Styx that I will try everything in my power to make sure Thantos is free and the giant holding him is defeated so that Otrera stays dead," I said.

The queen stared at me, and I could almost see the gears turning inside her head, formulating a plan. She nodded. "You have courage, Hazel Levesque. It seems Arion has chosen well. Since you're a Roman, I'll hold you up to your word. Kinzie?"

"Yes, my queen?"

"You said Otrera's followers are guarding the cells?"

Kinzie nodded. "I should have foreseen that. I'm sorry—"

"No, it's fine." The queen's eyes gleamed—the way Hannibal the elephant's did whenever he was unleashed to destroy a fortress. "It would be embarrassing for Otrera if her followers failed in their duties—if, for instance, they were overcome by an outsider and a prison break occurred."

Kinzie began to smile. "Yes, my queen. Most embarrassing."

"Of course," Hylla continued, "none of my guards would know a _thing_ about this. Kinzie would _not_ spread the word to allow an escape."

"Certainly not," Kinzie agreed.

"And we couldn't help you." The queen raised her eyebrows at me. "But if you somehow overpowered the guards and freed your friends… if, for instance, you took one of the guards' Amazon cards—"

"With one-click purchasing enable," Kinzie said, "which will open the jail cells with one click."

"If—gods forbid!—something like that were to happen," the queen continued, "you would find your friends' weapons and supplies in the guard station next to the cells. And who knows? If you made your way back to this throne room while I was off preparing for my duel… well, as I mentioned. Arion is a very fast horse. It would be a shame if he were stolen and used for an escape."

I felt like I'd been plugged into the wall socket. Electricity surged through my whole body. Arion… Arion could be mine. All I had to do was rescue my friends and fight my way through an entire nation of highly trained warriors. I wasn't much of a fighter, but this was my chance.

"Hazel," Hylla said. "If the prophecy is correct, you will help the Amazon nation achieve prosperity. I trust the fate of the Amazons on your quest and I will fight Otrera as many times if I have to until the 24th. I pray to my mother if I have too for support."

I smiled and took her hand. "If it helps, one of our former Centurions faced Charon after a war game and turn away back where she entered the Underworld."

Hylla nodded understanding what I just said. "I pray that it won't come to that, but I thank you for it anyways. And this conversation never happened."

She turned to Kinzie. "Take our prisoner to the cells and hand her over to Otrera's guards. And, Kinzie, be sure you leave before anything unfortunate happens. I don't want my loyal followers held accountable for a prison break.

The queen smiled mischievously. Reyna is so lucky to have a sister like that. It made me wonder if Bianca is like that.

Now I want to meet Bianca even more.

"Don't worry, Hazel Levesque. I'm sure you'll meet your sister one day," Hylla said. "For now, good luck and good-bye. I must prepare for the many duels ahead."


	32. Hazel POV Part XII

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

Sorry for reposting this chapter, but I had to add something at the end.

* * *

 **Hazel's POV Part XII**

The Amazon jail was at the top of a storage aisle, sixty feet in the air.

Kinzie led me up three different ladders to a metal catwalk, then tied my hands loosely behind my back and pushed me along past crates of jewelry.

A hundred feet ahead, under the harsh glow of fluorescent lights, a row of chain-link cages hung suspended from cables. Percy and Frank were in two of the cages, talking to each other in hush tones. Next to them on the catwalk, three bored-looking Amazon guards leaned against their spears and gazed at little black tablets in their hands like they were reading.

I thought the tablets looked too thin for books. Then it occurred to me that they might be some sort of tiny—what did modern people call them?—laptop computers. Secret Amazon technology, perhaps. I found the idea almost as unsettling as the battle forklifts downstairs.

"Get moving, girl," Kinzie ordered, loud enough for the guards to hear. She prodded me in the back with her sword.

I walked as slowly as I could, but my mind was racing. I needed to come up with a brilliant rescue plan. So far I had nothing and I was starting to wish I had asked Nico to teach me how to Shadow Travel. Then I remember that if I could shadow travel, we wouldn't need Arion to get out of here.

So once again I had nothing. Kinzie had made sure I could break out of my bonds easily, but I'd still be empty-handed against three trained warriors, and I had to act before they put me in a cage.

I passed a pallet of crates marked 24-CAROT BLUE TOPAZ RINGS, then another labeled SILVER FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS. An electronic display next to the friendship bracelets read: _People who bought this item also bought GARDEN GNOMESOLAR PATIO LIGHT and FLAMING SPEAR OF DEATH. Buy all three and save 12%!_

That's when it dawn to me how stupid I been since leaving the throne room.

Silver. Topaz. I sent out my senses, searching for precious metals, and my brain almost exploded from the feedback. She was standing next to a six-story-tall mountain of jewelry. But in front of me, from here to the guards, was nothing but prison cages.

"Get ready to bring the guards over," I told Kinzie, "I have a plan."

Kinzie nodded as suddenly I fake a collapse onto my knees.

"Hey! Get up!" Kinzie shouted.

"I can't… I don't feel so well," I fake a groaned.

Kinzie scowled and turn to the guards who were watching. "What are you doing standing there! Get over here and help!"

The nearest guard rolled her eyes and trudged over. I had hope the other two guards would come too, but she'd have to worry about that later.

The first guard grabbed my arm. "I'll take custody of the prisoner. But if I were you, Kinzie, I wouldn't worry about Hylla. She won't be queen much longer."

"We'll see, Doris." Kinzie turned to leave. I waited until her steps receded down the catwalk.

The guard Doris pulled my arm. "Well? Come on."

I concentrated on the wall of jewelry next to her: forty large boxes of silver bracelets. "Not… feeling so good."

"You are _not_ throwing up on me," Doris growled. She tried to yank me to my feet, but I went limp, like a kid throwing a fit in a store. Next to me, the boxes tremble.

"Lulu!" Doris yelled to one of her comrades. "Help me with this lame girl."

Amazon named Doris and Lulu? I thought. Okay…

The second guard jogged over. I figured this was my best chance. Before they could haul me to my feet, I yelled, "Ooooh!" and flatten myself against the catwalk.

Doris started to say, "Oh, give me a—"

The entire pallet of jewelry exploded with a sound like a thousand slot machines hitting the jackpot. A tidal wave of silver friendship bracelets poured across the catwalk, washing Doris and Lulu right over the railing.

They would've fallen to their deaths if I wanted to, which of course I didn't. I'm not that mean. I summoned a few hundreds bracelets, which leaped at the guards and lashed around their ankles, leaving them hanging upside down from the bottom of the catwalk, screaming like lame little girls.

I turned toward the third guard. I broke my bonds, which were about as sturdy as toilet paper. I picked up one of the fallen guards' spears. I was terrible with spears, but she hoped the third Amazon didn't know that.

"Should I kill you from here?" I snarled. "Or are you going to make me come over there?"

The guard turned and ran.

I shouted over the side to Doris and Lulu. "Amazon cards! Pass them up, unless you want me to undo those bracelets and let you drop!"

Four and a half seconds later, I had two Amazon cards. I raced over to the cages and swiped a card. The doors popped open.

Frank stared at me in astonishment. "Hazel, that was… _amazing._ "

Percy nodded. "Remind me to stay away from precious stones when you're fighting."

I shrugged. "Come on. Our weapons and supplies are at the end of the catwalk. We should hurry. Pretty soon—"

Alarms began wailing throughout the cavern.

"Yeah," I said, "that'll happen."

"Then we better go," Percy said. "I want my sword and thermos back."

…

We retrieved our stuff with no problem but we hit a slight snag when we had to carry our duffle bags down the ladders. Fortunately, for me, whenever the Amazons swarm beneath us, demanding our surrender, I made a crate of jewelry explode, burying our enemies in a Niagara Falls of gold and silver. When we got to the bottom of the ladder, we found a scene that looked like Mardi Gras Armageddon—Amazons trapped up in their necks in bead necklaces, several more upside down in a mountain of amethyst earrings. And a battle forklifts buried in silver charm bracelets.

"You, Hazel Levesque," Frank said. "are entirely _freaking_ incredible."

I wanted to kiss him right, there but Percy asked, "I take it negotiations didn't work out?" Percy asked.

"Yes and no," I answered, "I'll explain later. Come on."

We ran back to the throne room.

We stumbled across one Amazon who must've been loyal to Hylla because as soon as she saw us, she turned away like we were invisible.

"I'm guessing this is what you meant by yes and no?" Percy asked.

I nodded, "In return we need to free Thantos so Hylla can kill Otrera and lead the Amazons to help the Camp otherwise Otrera will lead the Amazons to help the Giants."

Percy nodded.

The second Amazon wasn't so friendly. She was dressed in full armor, blocking the throne-room entrance. She spun her spear with lightning speed. Percy drew Riptide and stepped into the battle. The Amazon jabbed at Percy but he sidestepped, cut her spear shaft in half, and slammed the hilt of his sword against her helmet.

The guard crumpled.

"How did you—" Frank started to say, "that wasn't any Roman technique!"

Percy grinned. "You be surprise what _graecus_ can do, my friend. After you."

We ran into the throne room. As promised, Hylla and her guards had cleared out. I dashed over to Arion's cage and swiped an Amazon card across the lock. Instantly the stallion burst forth, rearing in triumph.

Frank stumbled backward. "Um… is that thing _tame_?" Frank said.

"Arion isn't known for it…" Percy said.

The horse whinnied angrily.

"Hey! Frank just so happens to be your thousand times great nephew so watch what you say," Percy argued.

"You understand him?" I asked.

"Speaking to horses is a Sea God thing," Percy said. "Basically he just said to Frank, _'I will trample you to death, silly Chinese Canadian baby man.'_ "

"Baby man?" Frank sputtered.

"We don't have time to argue. Arion is fast enough that he can get us out of here," I argued.

Frank didn't look thrilled. "Three of us can't fit on one horse while carrying three duffle bags, can we? We'll fall off, or slow him down, or—"

Arion whinnied again.

"Ouch," Percy said. "Frank, I'm going to do you a favor and not translate what he just called you. Anyway, he says there's a chariot in the warehouse, and he's willing to pull it."

"There!" someone yelled from the back of the throne room. A dozen Amazons charged it, followed by males in orange jumpsuits. When they saw Arion, they backed up quickly and headed for the battle forklifts.

I vaulted onto Arion's back. Let me tell you, it feels great to be back on a horse's back. Even if the horse is the immortal son of Neptune and Ceres who can run like the wind.

I grinned down at my friends and tossed my bag to Frank. "I remember seeing that chariot. Follow me, guys!"

I galloped into the larger cavern and scattered a crown of males. Percy covered Frank by using his thermos to summon a water blast that knocked down any Amazon in his way.

I bowled into a patrol of Amazons, who scattered in terror at the sight of the horse. For once, my _spathe_ felt exactly the right length. On the ground it was always felt too long, and on Hannibal the elephant it felt too short. But on Arion it was just right.

I swung it at everyone who came within reach. No Amazon dared challenge her, and none could get close to do some damage to Frank due to Percy's thermos.

Finally, we reached the chariot. Arion stopped by the yoke, and Percy threw his bag into the chariot in order to set to work with the reins and harness.

"You've done this before?" Frank asked.

Percy didn't need to answer. His hands flew. In no time the chariot was ready. He jumped aboard (probably for luggage needs) and tied the duffle bag securely to the chariot and yelled, "Frank, come on!"

Frank clambered aboard and Percy securely tied the other two duffle bags to the chariot. "Hazel, go!"

A battle cry went behind us. A full army of Amazons stormed into the warehouse. Otrera herself stood astride a battle forklift, her silver hair flowing as she swung her mounted crossbow toward the chariot. "Stop them!" She yelled.

I spurred Arion. We raced across the cavern, weaving around pallets and forklifts. An arrow whizzed past my head. Something exploded behind me, but I didn't look back.

"The stairs!" Frank yelled. "No way this horse can pull a chariot up that many flights of—OH MY GODS!"

Thankfully the stairs were wide enough for the chariot, because Arion didn't even slow down. He shot up the steps with the chariot rattling and groaning. I glanced back a few times to make sure Frank and Percy hadn't fallen off. Their knuckles were white on the sides of the chariot, their teeth chattering like windup Halloween skulls. I don't know how well the duffle bags were holding, but I decided to worry about that later.

Finally, we reached the lobby. Arion crashed through the main doors into the plaza and scattered a bunch of guys in business suits.

I felt the tension in Arion's rib cage. The fresh air was making him crazy to run, but I pulled back on the reins. Ella was still out there. If the Amazons were able to catch Arion, I didn't want to risk leaving Ella in Seattle with Otrera back in the world of the living and working for Gaea with her loyal Amazons.

"Ella!" I shouted to the sky. "Where are you? We have to leave!"

For a horrible second I thought the harpy might be too far away to hear and I started to worry that the Amazons already caught her.

Behind us a battle forklift clattered up the stairs and roared through the lobby with a mob of Amazons behind it.

"Surrender! Otrera screamed.

The forklift raised its razor-sharp tines.

"Ella!" I cried desperately.

In a flash of red feathers, Ella landed in the chariot. "Ella is here. Amazons are pointy. Go now."

"Hold on!" I warned as I gave Arion the order, "Arion, run!"

The world seemed to elongated. Sunlight bent around us. Arion shot away from the Amazons and sped through downtown Seattle. I glanced back and saw a line of smoking pavement where Arion's hooves had touched the ground. He thundered toward the docks, leaping over cars, barreling through intersections,

I screamed with delight at the top of my lungs. For the first time in my _two_ lives I felt absolutely unstoppable. I felt like I can indeed become one of the seven greatest demigods of our generation and all time. Arion reached the water and leaped straight off the docks.

My ears popped as I hear the roar of a sonic boom, as Arion tore over Puget Sound, seawater turning to steam in his wake as the skyline of Seattle receded behind us.


	33. Frank's POV Part IX

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **Frank's POV Part IX**

I was relieved when the wheels fell off.

I already thrown up twice from the back of the chariot, which was not fun at the speed of sound. The horse seemed to bend time and space as he ran, blurring the landscape and making me feel like I'd just drunk a gallon of milk without my lactose-intolerance medicine. Ella didn't help. She kept muttering the speed we were going, which was now eight hundred and three miles per hour and the horse wasn't slowing down.

The horse sped north across Puget Sound, zooming past islands and fishing boats and very surprised pods of whales. The landscape ahead began to look familiar—Crescent Beach, Boundary Bay. I had gone sailing here once on a school trip. We'd crossed into Canada.

The horse rocketed onto dryland. He followed Highway 99 north, running so fast, the cars seemed to be standing still.

Finally, just as we were getting into Vancouver, the chariot wheels began to smoke.

"Hazel!" I yelled. "We're breaking up!"

She got the message and pulled the reins. The horse didn't seem happy about it, but he slowed to subsonic as we zipped through the city streets. We crossed the Ironworkers bridge into North Vancouver, and the chariot started to rattle dangerously. At least Arion stopped at the top of a wooded hill. He snorted with satisfaction, as if to say, _That's how we run, fools._ The smoking chariot collapsed, spilling Percy, Ella and me onto the wet mossy ground.

I stumbled to my feet. I tried to blink the yellow spots out of my eyes.

Percy groaned and started unhitching Arion from the ruined chariot before cutting the ropes that somehow manage to tied down our bags at over eight-thousand miles per hour.

Ella fluttered around in dizzy circles, bonking into the trees and muttering, "Tree. Tree. Tree."

Only Hazel seemed unaffected by the ride. She was grinning with pleasure as she slid off the horse's back. "That was fun!"

"Yeah." I swallowed back my nausea. "So much fun."

Arion whinnied.

"He says he needs to eat," Percy translated. "No wonder. He probably burned about six million calories."

Hazel studied the ground at her feet and frowned. "I'm not sensing any gold around here… Don't worry, Arion. I'll find you some. In the meantime, why don't you go graze? We'll meet you—"

The horse zipped off, leaving a trail of steam in his wake.

Hazel knit her eyebrows. "Do you think he'll come back?"

"Maybe," Percy said. "Being a free spirited immortal horse Arion is probably just doesn't want to be confined to one place. And I doubt being caged up by the Amazons helped. But if you are meant to ride him again, then you might see him again."

I almost hoped Percy isn't right and the horse stay away. I didn't say that, of course. I could tell Hazel was distressed by the idea of losing her new friend. But Arion scared me, and I was pretty sure the horse knew it.

Hazel and Percy started salvaging supplies from the chariot wreckage and packing them into our duffle bags. There were a few boxes of random Amazon merchandise in the front, and Ella shrieked with delight when she found a shipment of books. She snatched up a copy of _The Birds of North America_ , fluttered to the nearest branch, and began scratching through the pages so fast, I wasn't sure if she was reading or shredding. Probably both.

I leaned against a tree, trying to control my vertigo. I still haven't recovered from my Amazon imprisonment. Let me tell you, when the Amazons pushes you into a cage they actually kick you in the cage if you're a male and show the slightest hesitation. Not to mention any self-esteem I had left took a hit when a egomaniacal horse called me _baby man_.

What's worse was that I was still rattled by the vision I had shared with Hazel. I felt closer to her now. I knew I'd done the right thing in giving her the piece of firewood. A huge weight had been taken off my shoulders.

On the other hand, I'd seen the Underworld firsthand. I had felt what it was like to sit forever doing nothing, just regretting your mistakes. I'd looked up at those creepy gold mask on the judges of the dead and realized that _I_ would stand before them someday, maybe very soon.

I had always dreamed of seeing my mother again when I died. But maybe that wasn't possible for demigods. Hazel had been in Asphodel for something like seventy years and never found her mom. I hoped my mom and I would both end up in Elysium. But if Hazel hadn't gotten there—sacrificing her life to stop Gaea, taking responsibility for her actions so that her mother wouldn't end up in the Punishment—what chance did I have? I's never done anything that heroic.

"Hey!" Percy handed over my breastplate armor, "When you're ready, put that on? I got a feeling the closer we are to Alaska a lot more dangers we will face."

I nodded noticing that Hazel and Percy already had their breast plates on and Percy was already using the Mist to disguise them as your regular clothing.

Once I was able to straighten up, I got part of my armor on. Once my armor seemed snug on my body, I looked around trying to get my bearings.

To the south, across Vancouver Harbor, the downtown skyline gleamed red in the sunset. To the north, the hills and rain forests of Lynn Canyon Park snaked between the subdivisions of North Vancouver until they gave way to wilderness.

I had explored this park for years. I spotted a bend in the river that looked familiar. I recognized a dead pine tree that had been split by lightning in a nearby clearing. I knew this hill. I know where we are.

"I'm practically home," I said. "My grandmother's house is right over there."

Hazel squinted. "How far?"

"Just over the river and through the woods."

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? To Grandmother's house we go?"

I cleared my throat. "Yeah, anyway."

Hazel clasped her hands in prayer. "Frank, _please_ tell me she'll let us spend the night. I know we're on a deadline, but we've got to rest, right? And Arion saved us some time. Maybe we could get an actual cooked meal?"

"And a hot shower?" Percy said. "And a bed with sheets and pillows?"

I tried to imagine Grandmother's dace if I showed up with two heavily armed friends and a harpy. Everything had changed since my mother's funeral, since the morning the wolves had taken me south. I'd been so angry about leaving. Now, I couldn't imagine going back.

Still, my friends and I were exhausted. We'd been traveling for more than two days without decent food or sleep. Grandmother could give us supplies. And maybe she can answer the questions about our family ancestry and maybe confirm my growing suspicion about my family gift.

"It's worth a try," I decided. "To Grandmother's house we go."

…

I was so distracted; I would have walked right into the ogres' camp. Fortunately, Percy pulled me back.

We crouched next to Hazel and Ella behind a fallen log and peered into the clearing.

"Bad," Ella murmured. "This is bad for harpies."

It was fully dark now. Around a blazing campfire sat a dozen shaggy-haired humanoids. Standing up, they probably would've been eight feet tall—tiny compare to the giant Polybotes or even the Cyclopes we'd seen in California, but that didn't make them any less scary. They wore only knee-length surfer shorts. Their skin was sunstroke red—covered with tattoos of dragons, hearts, and bikini-clad women. Hanging from a spit over the fire was a skinned animal, maybe a boar, and the ogres were tearing chunks of meat with their claw-like fingernails, laughing and talking as they ate, baring pointy teeth. Next to the ogres sat several mesh bags filled with bronze spheres like cannonballs. The spheres must have been hot, because they steamed in the cool evening air.

Two hundred yards beyond the clearing, the lights of the Zhang mansion glowed through the trees. _So close_ , I thought. I wondered if we could sneak around the monsters using the Mist, but when I looked left and right, I saw more campfires in every direction, as if the ogres had surrounded the property. My fingers dug into the tree bark. My grandmother might be alone inside the house, trapped.

"What are these guys?" I whispered.

"Laistrygonian giants. This is why I suggested wearing armor. They're notoriously found this far north."

"Seriously?" I asked, "I lived here my whole life and this is time I heard about them living in my own backyard!"

"Well, the Mist might have covered your sight of them, but trust me, mortals have seen them," Percy said. "In fact we have these guys to thank for the Big Foot sightings."

"Are you telling me these giants are—"

"Sasquatches to mortals, yep," Ella said. "Cannibals. Northern giants. They're not birds. Not birds of North America."

"Okay, I get Ella, but how do you know so much about them?" Frank asked

"Percy reads, yep. Like Ella." Ella muttered.

"That and I think Annabeth and I fought them with my…" Percy frowned. "Adopted Cyclops half-brother."

"You have an adopted Cyclops half-brother?" Hazel asked.

"Yeah, yeah I do," Percy said, "Seeing the giants must have triggered my memory of him."

"How do—never mind, I don't want to know," I said.

"So do you remember how to kill them?" Hazel asked.

"I think so… I think I used my thermos to cause their bronze cannonballs—which catches on fire and explodes—to backfire on them, my brother was fire proof—being a cyclops—so he was able to catch the balls and threw them back, and I think Annabeth was able to stab one from behind. The only problem is there's several times more of these giants than what we fought and Death is still capture."

"Which will make things harder for us," Hazel said.

My hand went to my coat pocket. Then I remembered that Hazel had my piece of driftwood.

I noticed Percy was also adjusting his armor, which—since it's in jock-jacket form—looked like he was straightening it. I realized Percy must be making sure his vulnerable spot was well protected.

"There must be something we can do?" Hazel looked at me with concern. What about your grandmother? We've got to help her."

A lump form in my throat. I never imagined in a million years that my grandmother would need rescuing, but now I started running combat scenarios in my mind—the way I had back at camp during the war games.

"We need a distraction," I decided. "If we can draw this group into the woods, we might sneak through without alerting the others."

"I wish Arion was here," Hazel said. "I could get the ogres to chase me."

 _Something to chase,_ I thought as an idea dawn to me, and one I don't like.

"I've got another idea," I said as I slipped the spear off my back.

I didn't want to do this. The idea of summoning Gray scared me even more than Hazel's horse. But I didn't see any other way.

"No one scream!" I said.

I jabbed the spear into the ground, and the point broke off.

"Oops," Ella said. "No spear point. Nope, nope."

The ground trembled. Gray's skeletal hand broke the surface. Percy fumbled for his sword, and Hazel made a sound like a cat with a hairball. Ella disappeared and rematerialized at the top of the nearest tree.

"It's okay," I promised. "He's under my control!"

Okay, not really, but I had to promise something so they won't attack Gray.

Gray crawled out of the ground. He showed no sign damage from his previous encounter with the Basilisk. He was good as a new in his camouflage and combat boots, translucent gray flesh covering his bones like glowing Jell-O. He turned his ghostly eyes toward me, waiting for orders.

"Frank, please tell me that _Spatha_ is a undead soldier that fought on the losing side of war," Percy said.

"I'm not sure." I replied.

"Wait, what do you mean?" Hazel asked.

"I think Children of Mars can control any undead soldier who serve under the name of Mars in war on the side that lost," Percy said.

"How…" I stopped myself remembering who I was talking too. "Never mind. It would explain why Mars left him to me. Okay, Gray. Your orders: attack that group of ogres. Lead them off to the west causing a diversion so we can—"

Unfortunately, Gray lost interest after the word "ogres." Maybe he only understood simple sentences. He charged toward the ogres campfire.

"Wait!" I ordered, but it was too late. Gray pulled two of his own ribs from his shirt and ran around the fire, stabbing the ogres in the back with such blinding speed they didn't even have time to yell. Six extremely surprised-looking Laistrygonians fell sideways like a circle of dominoes and crumbled into dust

Gray stomped around, kicking their ashes apart as they tried to re-form. When he seemed satisfied that they weren't coming back, Gray stood at attention, saluted smartly in my direction, and sank into the forest floor.

"Please tell me he'll do that after your last charge," Percy said.

I didn't know what to say, but I hoped the same thing.

"No Laistrygonians." Ella fluttered down and landed next to them. "Six minus six is zero. Spears are good for subtraction. Yep."

Hazel looked at me as if I'd turned into a zombie skeleton myself. I thought my heart might shatter, but I couldn't blame her. Children of Mars were all about violence. Mars symbol was a bloody spear for a good reason. Why shouldn't Hazel be appalled?

I glared down at the broken tip of my spear. I wished I had _any_ father but Mars.

"Let's go," I said. "My grandmother might be in trouble."


	34. Frank's POV Part X

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **Frank's POV Part X**

We stopped at the front porch. As I had feared, a loose ring of campfires glowed in the woods, completely surrounding the property, but the house itself seemed untouched. It was as if the enemy only came here and camped out because they were waiting for something—or someone—to come here or come out.

Grandmother's wind chimes jangle in the night breeze. Her wicked chair sat empty, facing the road. Light shone through the downstairs window, but I decided against ringing the doorbell. I didn't know how late it was, or if Grandmother was asleep or even home. Instead I checked the stone elephant statue in the corner—a tiny duplicate of the one in Portland. The spare key was still tucked under its foot.

I hesitated at the door.

"What's wrong?" Percy asked.

I remembered the morning I opened this door for the military officer who told me about my mother. I remembered walking down these steps to her funeral, holding my piece of firewood in my coat for the first time. I remembered standing here and watching the wolves coming out of the woods—Lupa's minions, who lead me to the Wolf House before I made my journey to Camp Jupiter. That seemed so long ago, but it had only been six weeks.

Now I was back. Would Grandmother hug me? Would she say, _Frank, thank the gods you've come! I'm surrounded by monsters!_

More likely she'd scold me, or mistaken us for intruders and chase us off with a frying Pan.

"Frank?" Hazel asked.

"Ella is nervous," the harpy muttered from her perch on the railing. "The elephant—the elephant is looking at Ella."

"It'll be fine." My hand was shaking so badly I could barely fit the key in the lock. "Just stay together."

Inside, everything was off.

The house, that used to be scented by jasmine incense now smelled closed up and musty, and all the burners were empty. Dirty dishes were stacked in the sink in the kitchen which was wrong since Grandmother has a maid come in every day. There was cobwebs strung on Grandmother's porcelain.

Something wasn't right.

In the parlor, Budha statues and Taoist immortals grinned at us like psycho clowns. I remembered Iris, the rainbow goddess, who'd been dabbling in Buddhism and Taoism. I figured one visit to this creepy old house would cure her of that.

I looked at the porcelain and found myself feeling guilty about destroying so many pieces the day of the funeral. It seemed silly to me now—getting angry at Grandmother when I had so many others to be angry at: Juno, Gaea, the Giants, my dad Mars. _Especially_ Mars.

The fire place was dark and cold.

Hazel hugged her chest as if to keep the piece of firewood from jumping into the hearth. "Is that—"

"Yeah," I said. "That's it."

Percy frowned looking at the Hearth. "What are you guys talking about?"

Hazel's expression was sympathetic, but that just made me feel worse. I remembered how terrified, how repulsed she had looked when I summoned Gray.

"Don't worry about it," I told Percy who was staring at fire place, as if expecting something to come out. "Come on. Let's check upstairs."

The steps creaked under our feet. My old room was the same. None of my things had been touched—my extra bow and quiver (I have to grab those later), my spelling awards from school (I'm probably the only non-dyslexic spelling champion demigod in the world, as if I weren't enough of a freak already), and my photos of my mom—in er flak jacket and helmet, sitting on a Humvee in Kandahar Province; in her soccer coach uniform, the season she'd coached my team; in her military dress uniform, her hands on my shoulders, the time she visited my school for career day.

"Your mother?" Hazel asked gently. "She's beautiful."

I couldn't answer. I felt a little embarrassed—a sixteen-year-old guy with a bunch of pictures of my mom.

How hopelessly lame was that? But mostly I felt sad. It been six weeks since I was last here, but if felt longer. But when I looked at my mom's smiling face in those photos, the pain of losing er was fresh as ever.

Percy stared blankly at the photos and I remembered that he might not remember his mom—unaware if she's alive or not. But he kept quiet as if having enough respect to bring it up, one of the things I like about Percy.

We checked the other bedrooms. The middle two were empty. A dim light flickered under the last door—Grandmother's room.

I knocked quietly. No one answered. I pushed open her door. Grandmother lay in bed, looking gaunt and frail, her white hair spread around her face like a basilisk crown. A single candle burned on the nightstand. At her bedside sat a large man in beige Canadian Forces fatigues. Despite the gloom, he wore dark sunglasses with red light glowing behind the lenses.

"Mars," I said.

The god looked up impassively. "Hey, kid. Come on in. Tell your friends to take a hike."

"Frank?" Hazel whispered. "What do you mean, _Mars_? Is your grandmother… is she okay?"

I glanced at my friends. "You don't see him?"

"No," Percy said gripping his sword. "Where is he?"

The war god chuckled. "Nah, they can't see me. Figure it was better this time. Just a private conversation—father/son, right?"

I clenched my fist but fortunately Percy spoke in a shaky breath that told me he was holding back his anger.

"Come on guys," Percy said. "Let's give Frank some alone time."

I "Why don't you two take the middle bedrooms. Ella, you can stay in the roof."

"Roof," Ella said. "Roofs are good for harpies."

"Right," I said in a daze. "There's probably food in the kitchen."

Hazel looked at me and nodded, "Hollered if you need us."

They headed off to the rooms. Then once they had receded I walked into the bedroom and closed the door. I wanted to cry or scream or punch Mars in the glasses—maybe all three—but for my grandmother's sake I tried to stay calm since Mars is sitting right next to her.

"Is it really you?" I asked Mars. "This isn't a trick or illusion or something?"

The god shook his head. "You'd prefer it if it wasn't me?"

"Yes," I confessed.

Mars shrugged. "Can't blame you. Nobody welcomes war—if they're smart. But war finds everyone sooner or later. It's inevitable."

"That's stupid," I said. "War isn't inevitable. It kills people. It—"

"—took your mom," Mars finished.

I wanted to smack the calm look on his face, but maybe that was just Mars' aura making me feel aggressive. I looked down at my grandmother, sleeping peacefully. I wished she would wake up. If anyone could take on the war god, it was my grandmother.

"She's ready to die," Mars said. "She's been ready for weeks, but she's holding on for you."

"For me?" I was so stunned I almost forgot my anger. "Why? How could she know I was coming back? _I_ didn't know!"

"The Laistrygonians outside knew," Mars said. "I imagine a certain goddess told them."

I blinked. "Juno?"

The war god laughed so loudly the windows rattled, but Grandmother didn't even stir. "Juno? Boar's whiskers, kid. Not Juno. You're Juno's secret weapon. She wouldn't sell you out. No, I mean Gaea. Obviously she's been keeping track of you. I think you worry her more than Percy or Jason or any of the other seven."

I felt like the room was tilting. I wished there was another chair to sit in. "You mean… I'm actually one of the seven? And Jason, and—"

"Yes, yes." Mars waved his hand impatiently. "All of you, including your friends, are being groomed for the prophecy of seven, assuming you make it back from Alaska alive. Juno aims to unite the Greeks and Romans and send them against the giants. She believes it's the only way to stop Gaea."

Mars shrugged, clearly unconvinced of the plan. "Anyway, Gaea doesn't want you to be one of the seven. Percy Jackson… despite the fact that him keeping the Mark of Achilles have put a whole in her plan, she still believes she can control him. All of the others have weaknesses she can exploit. But _you_ —you worry her. Every one of the seven has a part in the seven, and with the combination of your family gift and being my son, you're the muscles of the group, and Gaea knows it. She'd rather kill you right away. That's why she summoned the Laistrygonians. They've been here for days, waiting."

I shook my head. Was Mars playing some kind of trick? No way would a _goddess_ be worried about me, especially when there was somebody like Percy Jackson to worry about. And this 'Being the muscles of the group' was it some kind of joke? It's bad enough that I'm the son of the war god, but it sounds like my family gift supposed to turn me more into something I don't want to be. But what really get me was what Mars said about weaknesses.

"No weaknesses?" I asked. "I'm nothing _but_ weaknesses. My life depends on a piece of wood!"

Mars grinned. "That doesn't make you any much less of a threat kid. Menelaus' life depended on a stick too, and he took part in and survived the Eurytion Boar Hunt. His names didn't make the big time heroes list, but he did well despite his situation."

"Then how did he died?" I asked.

"Don't worry about it. Unlike Menelaus', your life line is in good hands." Mars grinned as if knowing what I did with it. "The point is, don't sell yourself out. Anyway, Gaea has these Laistrygonians convince that if they eat the last member of your family—that being _you_ —they'll inherit your family gift. Whether that's true or not, I don't know. Laistrygonians are hungry to try."

My stomach twisted into a knot. Gray had killed six of the ogres, but judging from the campfires around the property, there were dozens more—all waiting to cook me for breakfast.

"I'm going to throw up," I said.

"No, you're not." Mars snapped his fingers, and my queasiness disappeared. "Battle jitters. Happens to everyone."

"But my grandmother—"

"Yeah, she's been waiting to talk to you. The ogres have left her alone so far. She's the bait, see? Now that you're here, I imagine they've already smelled your presence. They'll attack in the morning."

"Get us out of here, then!" I demanded. "Snap your fingers and blow up the cannibals."

"Ha! That would be fun. But I don't fight my kids' battles for them. The Fates have clear ideas about what jobs belong to the gods, and what has to be done by mortals. This is _your_ quest, kid. And, uh, in case you haven't figured it out yet, your spear won't be ready to use again for twenty-four hours, so I hope you've learned how to use the family gift. Otherwise, you're gonna be breakfast for cannibals."

 _The family gift._ I had wanted to talk with my Grandmother about it, but now I had no one to consult but Mars. I stared at the war god, who was smiling with absolutely no sympathy.

That's when it dawn to me. Mars shows no sympathy because war has no sympathy. Just as war is not welcomed but it happened.

"Periclymenus." I sounded out the word carefully, like a spelling-bee challenge. "He was my ancestor, grandson of Neptune back when he was called Poseidon, a Greek prince, an Argonaut. He died fighting Hercules."

Mars rolled his hand in a _"go on"_ gesture.

"He had an ability that helped him in combat," I said. "Some sort of gift from his divine grandfather. My mom said he fought like a swarm of bees."

Mars laughed. "True enough. What else?"

"Somehow, the family got to China. I think, like in the days of the Roman Empire, one of Pericylmenus' descendants served in the legion. My mom used to talk about a guy named Seneca Gracchus, but he also had a Chinese name, Sung Guo. I think—well, this is the part I don't know, but Reyna always said there were many lost legions. The Twelfth founded Camp Jupiter. Maybe there was another legion that disappeared into the easy."

Mars clapped silently. "Not bad, kid. Ever heard of the Battle of Carrhae? Huge disaster for the Romans. They fought these guys called the Parthians on the eastern border of the empire. Fifteen thousand Romans died. Ten thousand more were taken prisoner."

"And one of the prisoners was my ancestor Seneca Gracchus?"

"Exactly," Mars agreed. "The Parthians put the captured legionnaires to work, since they were pretty good fighters. Except then Parthia got invaded again from the other direction—"

"By the Chinese," I guessed. "And the Roman prisoner got captured again."

"Yeah. Kind of embarrassing. Anyway, that's how a Roman legion got to China. The Romans eventually put down roots and built a new hometown  
called—"

"Li-Jien," I said. "My mother said that was our ancestral home. Li-Jien. _Legion_."

Mars looked pleased. "Now you're getting it. And old Seneca Gracchus, he had your family gift."

"My mom said he fought dragons," I remembered. "She said he was… he was the most powerful dragon of all."

"He was good," Mars admitted. "Not good enough to avoid the bad luck of his legion, but good. He settled in China, passed the family gift to his kids, and so on. Eventually your family emigrated to North America and got involved with Camp Jupiter—"

"Full circle," I finished. "Juno said I would bring the family full circle."

"We'll see." Mars nodded at my grandmother. "She wanted to tell you all this herself, but I figured I'd cover some of it since the old bird hasn't got much strength. So do you understand your gift?"

I hesitated. I had an idea, but it seemed crazy—even crazier than a family moving from Greece to Rome to China to Canada. I didn't want to say it aloud. I didn't want to be wrong and have Mars laughing at me. "I—I think so. But against an army of those ogres—"

"Yeah, it'll be tough." Mars stood and stretched. "When your grandmother wakes up in the morning, she'll offer you some help. Then I imagine she'll die."

" _What?_ But I have to save her! She can't just leave me."

"She lived a full life," Mars said. "She's ready to move on. Don't be selfish."

"Selfish!"

"The old woman only stuck around this long out of a sense of duty. Your mom was the same way. That's why I loved her. She always put her duty first, ahead of everything. Even her life."

"Even me."

Mars took off his sunglasses. Where his eyes should've been, a miniature spheres of fire boiled like nuclear explosions. "Self-pity isn't helpful, kid. It isn't worthy of you. Even without the family gift, your mom gave you your most important traits—bravery, loyalty, brains. Now you've got to decide how to use them. In the morning, listen to your grandmother. Take her advice. You can still free Thantos and save the camp."

"And leave my grandmother behind to die."

"Life is only precious because it ends, kid. Take it from a god. You mortals don't know how lucky you are."

"Yeah," I muttered. "Real lucky."

Mars laughed—a harsh metallic sound. "Your mom used to tell me this Chinese proverb. Eat bitter—"

 _"Eat bitter, taste sweet,"_ I said. "I hate that proverb."

"But it's true. What do they call it these days—no pain, no gain? Same concept. You do the easy thing, the appealing thing, the _peaceful_ thing, mostly it turns out sour in the end. But if you take the hard path—ah, _that's_ how you reap the sweet rewards. Duty. Sacrifice. They mean something."

I was so disgusted I could hardly speak. _This_ was my father?

Sure, I understood about my mom being a hero. I understood she'd saved lives and been really brave. But she'd left me alone. That wasn't fair. It wasn't right.

"I'll be going," Mars promised. "But first—you said you were weak. That's not true. You want to know why Juno spared you, Frank? Why that piece of wood didn't burn yet? It's because you've got a role to play. You think you're not as good as the other Romans. You think Percy Jackson is better than you."

"He is," I grumbled. "He battled _you_ and survived."

Mars shrugged. "True, he did survive and the only way for a hero to walk away from fighting a god is if they won. But every hero has a fatal flaw. Percy Jackson? He's too loyal to his friends. Sure he finds ways around it, even now with some of his memory still missing. He can't give them up, not for anything. He knows this too. Even now with his some of his memory still gone, he subconsciously tries to overcome it. That's why he kept his Mark of Achilles. But soon he will face a situation where he can't overcome his fatal flaw. Without you, Frank—without your sense of duty—he's going to fail cause of this, and may lose his life and possibly the world."

I shook my head. I couldn't hear this.

"War is a duty," Mars continued. "The real choice is whether you accept it, and what you fight for. The legacy of Rome is on the line—five thousand years of law, order, civilization. The gods, the traditions, the cultures that shaped the world you lived in: it's all going to crumple, Frank, unless you win this. I think that's worth fighting for. Think about it."

"What's my fatal flaw?" I asked. "You, Percy, Hazel, all of you keep bringing it up and how everyone has it, but what's my fatal flaw?"

The god smiled dryly. "You gotta answer that yourself, Frank. But you're finally asking the right questions. Now, get some sleep. You need the rest. And if you survived tomorrow, I suggest you ask yourself: after this quest, are you still alone."

The god waved his hand. My eyes felt heavy. I collapsed, and everything went dark.

…

"Fai," said a familiar voice, harsh and impatient.

I blinked my eyes. Sunlight streamed into the room.

"Fai, get up. As much as I would like to slap that ridiculous face of yours, I am in no condition to get out of bed."

"Grandmother?"

She came into focus, looking down at me from the bed. I lay sprawled on the floor. Someone had put a blanket over me during the night and a pillow under my head, but I had no idea how it had happened.

"Yes, my silly ox." Grandmother still looked horribly weak and pale, but her voice was as steely as ever. "Now, get up. The ogres have surrounded the house. We have much to discuss if you and your friends are to escape here alive."


	35. Frank's POV Part XI

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **Frank's POV Part XI**

One look out the window, and I knew I was in trouble.

At the edge of the lawn, the Laistrygonians were stacking bronze cannonballs. Their skin gleamed red. Their shaggy hair, tattoos, and claws didn't look any prettier in the morning light.

Some carried clubs or spears. A few confused ogres carried surfboards, like they'd shown up at the wrong party. All of them were in a festive mood—giving each other high fives, tying plastic bibs around their necks, breaking out the knives and forks. One ogre had fired up a portable barbecue and was dancing in an apron that said KISS THE COOK.

The scene would've been almost funny, except I knew _I_ was the main course.

"I've sent your friends to the attic," Grandmother said. "You can join them when we're done."

"The attic?" I turned. "You told me I could never go in there."

"That's because we keep _weapons_ in the attic, silly boy. Do you think this is the first time monsters have attacked our family?"

"Weapons," I grumbled. "Right. I've _never_ handled weapons before."

Grandmother's nostrils flared. "Was that sarcasm, Fai Zhang?"

"Yes, Grandmother."

"Good. There may be hope for you yet. Now, sit. You must eat."

She waved her hand at the nightstand, where someone had set a glass of orange juice and a plate of poached eggs and bacon on toast—my favorite breakfast.

Despite my troubles, I suddenly felt hungry. I looked at Grandmother in astonishment. "Did you—"

"Make your breakfast? By Buddha's monkey, of course not! And it wasn't the house staff. Too dangerous for them here. No, your girlfriend Hazel made that for you. And brought you a blanket and pillow last night. And picked out some clean clothes for you in your bedroom. By the way, you should shower. You smelled like burning horse hair."

I opened and closed my mouth like a fish. I couldn't make sounds come out. _Hazel_ had done all that for me? I was sure that I'd destroyed any chance with her last night when I summoned Gray.

"She's… um… she's not—"

"Not your girlfriend?" Grandmother guessed. "Well, she _should_ be, you dolt! Don't let her get away. You need strong women in your life, if you haven't noticed. I also met your other friend—the son of Neptune. If you asked me, he needs a strong willed woman in his life too."

"He has a girlfriend," I stated although I had no clue if she's anything that my Grandmother suggested.

"He told me the same thing," Grandmother said. "Now, to business."

I ate while Grandmother gave me a sort of military briefing. In the daylight, her skin was so translucent, her veins seemed to glow. Her breathing sounded like a crackly paper bag inflating and deflating, but she spoke with firmness and clarity.

She explained that the ogres had been surrounding the house for three days, waiting for me to show up.

"They want to cook you and eat you," she said distastefully, "which is ridiculous. You'd taste terrible."

"Thank you, Grandmother."

She nodded. "I admit; I was somewhat pleased when they said you were coming back. I am glad to see you one last time, even if your clothes are dirty and you need a haircut. Is this how you represent your family?"

"I've been a little busy, Grandmother." Which is true. With the quest how am I supposed to present myself.

"No excuse for sloppiness. At any rate, your friends have slept and eaten. They are taking stock of the weapons in the attic. I told them you would be along shortly, but there are too many ogres to fend off for long. We must speak of your escape plan. Look in my nightstand."

I opened the drawer and pulled out a sealed envelope.

"You know the airfield at the end of the park?" Grandmother asked. "Could you find it again?"

I nodded mutely. It was about three miles to the north, down the main road through the canyon. Grandmother had taken me there sometimes when she would charter planes to bring special shipments from China.

"There is a pilot standing by to leave at a moment's notice," Grandmother said. "He is an old family friend. I have a letter for him in that envelope, asking him to take you north."

"But—"

"Don't argue boy," she muttered. "Mars has been visiting me these last few days, keeping me company. He told me of your quest. Find Death in Alaska and release him. Do your duty."

"But if I succeed, you'll die. I'll never see you again."

"That is true," Grandmother agreed. "But I'll die anyway. I'm old. I thought I made that clear. But I would of thought you realized you still have family members."

I bit my lip. Technically it was true. There were other children of Mars. Not to mention technically Percy is my distant uncle.

"Now," Grandmother continued. "did your praetor give you letters of introductions?"

"Uh, yes, but—"

"Good. Show those to the pilot as well. He's a veteran of the legion. In case he has any doubts, or gets cold feet, those credentials will make him honor-bound to help you in any way possible. All you have to do is reach the airfield."

The house rumbled. Outside a ball of fire exploded in midair, lighting up the entire room.

"The ogres are getting restless," Grandmother said. "We must hurry. Now, about your powers, I hope you've figured them out."

"Sort of…" I stammered out the details of my discussion with Mars the night before, but I felt much more tongue-tied in front of Grandmother. "The gift of Periclymenus. Percy said he was the grandson of Neptune," I said.

Grandmother nodded grudgingly. "He was the grandson of Poseidon actually, but to maintain peaceful life with the Legion we made them think we were Legacies of Neptune. I guess your friend didn't mention our ancestor's gifts. The Gods probably prevented him from telling even if he could. What else did you learn?"

"A seer in Portland… he said something about my great-grandfather, Shen Lun. The seer said he was blamed for the 1906 earthquake that destroyed San Francisco and the old location of Camp Jupiter."

"Go on."

"At camp, they said a descendant of Neptune had caused the disaster. Neptune is the god of earthquakes. But… but I don't think great-grandfather actually did it. Causing earthquakes isn't our gift."

"No," Grandmother agreed. "But yes, he was blamed. He was unpopular as a descendant of Neptune. He was unpopular because his real gift was much stranger than causing earthquakes. And he was unpopular because he was Chinese. A Chinese boy had never before claimed Roman blood. An ugly truth—but there is no denying it. He was falsely accused, forced out in shame."

"So… if he didn't do anything wrong, why did you tell me to apologize for him?"

Grandmother's cheeks flushed. "Because apologizing for something you didn't do is better than dying for it! I wasn't sure if the camp would hold you to blame. I did not know if the prejudice of the Romans had eased."

I swallowed down my breakfast. I'd been teased in school and on the streets sometimes, but not that much, and never at Camp Jupiter. Nobody at camp, not once, had made fun of me for being Asian. Nobody cares about that. They only made fun of me because I was clumsy and slow. I couldn't imagine what it had been like for my great-grandfather, accused of destroying the entire camp, drummed out of the legion for something he didn't do.

"And our real gift?" Grandmother asked. "Have you figured out what it is?"

My mother's stories swirled in my head. _Fighting like a swarm of bees. He was the greatest dragon of all._ I remembered my mother's appearing next to me in the backyard, as if she'd flown from the attic. I remembered her coming out of the woods, saying that she'd given a mama grizzly bear directions.

 _"You can be anything,"_ I said. "That's what Mom always told me."

Grandmother huffed. "Yes, Fai Zhang. Your mother was not simply boosting your self-esteem. She was telling you the _literal_ truth."

"But…" Another explosion shook the house. Ceiling plaster fell like snow and yet I was so bewildered I barely noticed.

 _"Anything?"_

"Within reason," Grandmother said. "Living things. It helps if you know the creature well. It also helps if you are in a life-and-death situation, such as combat. Why do you look so surprise, Fai? You always said you are not comfortable in your body. We _all_ feel that way—well, all of us with the blood of Pylos. The gift was only given _once_ to a mortal family. We are unique among demigods. Poseidon must have been feeling especially generous when he blessed our ancestor—or especially spiteful. The gift has often proven a curse. It did not save your mother…"

Outside, a cheer went up from the ogres. Someone shouted, "Zhang! Zhang!"

"You must go, silly boy," Grandmother said. "Our time is up."

"But—I don't know how to use my powers. I've never—I can't—"

"You can," Grandmother said. "Or you will not survive to realize your destiny. I don't like this Prophecy of Seven that Mars told me. Seven is an unlucky number in Chinese—a ghost number. But there is nothing we can do about that. Now, go! Tomorrow evening is the Feast of Fortuna. You have no time to waste. Don't worry about me. I will die in my own time, in my own way. I have no intention of being devoured by those ridiculous ogres. Go!"

I turned to the door. I felt like my heart was being squeezed through a juicer, but I bowed formally. "Thank you, Grandmother," I said. "I will make you proud."

She muttered something under her breath that sounded like: _You have._

I stood there dumbfounded. She never said anything like that to me. Normally it ended with insults.

Of course when I thought that, her expression immediately turned sour. "Stop gaping, boy! Go shower and dress! Comb your hair! My last image of you, and you show messy hair?"

I patted down my hair and bowed again.

My last image of Grandmother was of her glaring out the window, as if thinking about the terrible scolding she would give the ogres when they invade her home.

If she was right about our family gift I wonder how good it would do her in her current condition.

I quickly push that thought aside as I headed off to shower and dress before fighting an army of ogres.


	36. Frank's POV Part XII

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **Frank's POV Part XII**

I took the quickest possible shower, put on the clothes Hazel set out—an olive-green shirt with beige cargo pants, really?—then grabbed my spare bow and quiver and bounded up the attic stairs.

Grandmother wasn't kidding about the attic being full of weapons. There were shields, spears, and quivers of arrows hung along one wall—almost as many as in the Camp Jupiter Armory. At the back window, a scorpion crossbow was mounted and loaded ready for action. At the front window stood something that looked like a machine gun with a cluster of barrels.

"Rocket launcher?" I wondered aloud.

"Nope, nope," said a voice from the corner. "Potatoes. Ella doesn't like potatoes."

The harpy had made a nest for herself between two old steamer trunks—probably full of more weapons. She was sitting in a pile of Chinese scrolls reading seven or eight at once.

I decided to stock my duffle bag, that I grabbed, with as many weapons as I could carry. Since the weapons belong to my family, and after today I'll possibly be the last one in North America, that these weapons are going to be mine anyways. I planned to have Percy and Hazel pack as much as they could as well.

"Ella," I said as I stock a spear my duffle bag. "Where are the others?"

"Roof." She glanced upward, then returned to her reading, alternately picking her feathers and turning pages. "Roof. Ogre-watching. Ella doesn't like ogres. Potatoes."

"Potatoes?" I didn't understand until I swiveled the machine gun around. Its eight barrels were loaded with spuds. At the base of the gun, a basket was filled with more edible ammunition. I probably should pack those as well.

I looked out the window—the very same one I realize my mom had watched me from when I had met the bear. Down in the yard, the ogres were milling around, shoving each other, occasionally yelling at the house, and throwing bronze cannonballs that exploded in midair. Either those are defective or they're to scare me out, or Percy and Hazel found away to stop them from hitting the house. I'm hoping for the last one.

"They have cannonballs," I said. "And we have a potato gun."

"Starch," Ella said thoughtfully. Starch is bad for ogres."

The house shook from another explosion. I quickly finish packing my duffle bag was filled pass capacity with as much spears, quivers, bows, and any other weapon I can carried, I grab the closest bag that was also in the attic, checked for any weapons—which there wasn't (my guess is it was kept in case my family needed to fill it with weapons for a journey, and hand it to Ella.

"Use this to carry any scroll and book you want," I told her.

"Bag good. Ella can carry more books." Ella agreed.

I wanted to go see how Percy and Hazel were doing, but I didn't want to leave Ella here alone.

I knelt next to her, as she started putting my family scrolls in her new bag. "Ella, it's not safe here with the ogres. We're going to be flying to Alaska soon. Will you come with us?"

Ella twitched uncomfortably. "Alaska. "Six hundred twenty-six thousand, four hundred twenty-five square miles. State mammal: the moose."

Suddenly she switched to Latin, which I could just barely follow thanks to my classes at Camp Jupiter: _"To the north, beyond the gods, lies the legion's crown. Without the gift of Neptune, his son shall drown—"_ She stopped and scratched her dishevel red hair. "Hmm. Burned. The rest is burned."

I could hardly breathe. "Ella, was… was that a prophecy? Where did you read that?"

"Moose," Ella said, savoring the word. "Moose. Moose. Moose."

The house shook again. Dust rained down from the rafters. Outside, an ogre bellowed, "Frank Zhang! Show yourself!"

"Nope," Ella said. "Frank shouldn't. Nope."

"Just… stay here and pack, okay?" I told her. "I've got to go help Hazel and Percy."

I pulled down the ladder to the roof.

…

"Morning," Percy said grimly. Beautiful day, huh?" He wore the same clothes as the day before—jeans, his purple T-shirt, and Polartec jacket—but they'd obviously been freshly washed. He had his thermos out and ready, and every time the giants sent up a cannonball, Percy summoned a high powered blast of water and detonated the sphere in midair.

I noticed there was garden hose on the roof as well. I remembered that my family was descended from Poseidon and what my Grandmother said about the house being attacked before, so the hose was up here for the same reason Percy had his Thermos out.

 _Without the gift of Neptune, his son shall drown,_ I remembered Ella recited.

Percy said that he thought his father gave him the Thermos, so it would technically his gift. But my family gift was also the gift of Neptune. It dawned to me either me or the Thermos could prevent Percy from drowning, and a part of me hopes it's the thermos.

Hazel patrolled the window's walk between the two attic gables. She looked so good, it made my chest hurt. She wore jeans, a cream-colored jacket, and a white shirt that made her skin look as warm as cocoa. Her curly hair fell around her shoulders. When she came close, I could smell jasmine shampoo.

She gripped her sword. When she glanced at me, her eyes flashed with concern. "Are you okay?" she asked. "Why are you smiling?"

"Oh, uh, nothing," I manage—not realizing I was smiling. "Thanks for the breakfast. And the clothes. And… not hating me."

Hazel looked baffled. "Why would I hate you?"

My face burned. I wished I kept my mouth shut, but it was too late now. _Don't let her get away,_ my grandmother had said. _You need strong women_.

"It's just… last night," I stammered. "When I summoned the skeleton. I thought… I thought that you thought… I was repulsive… or something."

Hazel raised her eyebrows. She shook her head in dismay. "Frank, maybe I was surprised. Maybe I was scared of that thing. But repulsed? The way you command it, so confident and everything—like, _Oh, by the way, guys, I have this all-powerful_ spartus _we can use_. I couldn't believe it. I wasn't repulsed, Frank. I was impressed."

I wasn't sure I heard her right. "You were… impressed… by _me_?"

"Dude, it _was_ pretty amazing," Percy laughed.

"Honest?" I asked.

"Honest," Hazel promised. "But right now, we have other problems to worry about. Okay?"

She gestured at the army of ogres, who were getting increasingly bold, shuffling closer and closer to the house.

Percy readied his thermos. "I've got one more trick up my sleeve. Your lawn has a sprinkler system. I can blow it up and cause some confusion down there. However, we would have to time it just right in order to get out of here."

I wasn't much worried as Hazel's praise was still ringing in my ears. Dozens of ogres were camped on my lawn, waiting to tear me apart, and I could barely control the urge to grin.

Hazel didn't hate me. She was impressed.

I forced myself to concentrate. I remembered what my grandmother had told me about the nature of my gift, and how I had to leave her here to die."

 _You've got a role to play_ , Mars had said, _With the combination of your family gift and being my son, you're the muscles of the group, and Gaea knows it._

I still can't believe I was Juno's secret weapon, or that I was the muscles of the seven, or that this big Prophecy of the Seven depended on me. But right now Hazel and Percy were counting on me, and I had to do my best.

"What about that dog whistle?" Hazel asked Percy that brought me out of it.

"Dog whistle?" I asked.

Percy looked uncertain but did bring out what looked like a bronze whistle that does resembles ones used on dogs.

"I think I can use it to call on a hellhound." Percy's eyebrows furrowed.

"So a hellhound whistle?" I corrected what Hazel called it earlier. "Why do you have a hellhound whistle?"

"I'm not a hundred percent sure but I think it has to do with one of my dream visions and my memories that is still hazy," Percy said, "But basically, I think the hellhound I use this to call on can help."

My ears started ringing some more as ideas came to my mind. "Can it take weapons to Camp Jupiter?"

"Maybe," Percy said. "But I don't think the campers would be glad to see weapons delivered to Camp through what they consider as a monster."

"True," Hazel said.

"Right…" I agreed as I started to get this feeling there's more too it than a Hellhound to what Percy is talking about. "Once we get out of here, we need to get to the airfield."

"Airfield?"

I explained to my friends about the plane waiting at the airfield, and my grandmother's note for the pilot. "He's a legion veteran. He can help. Meanwhile we can load our duffle bags and any bag in the attic we can use to stock up on weapons to have send to Berkley Hills using Percy's Hellhound to wait for us to safely deliver to Camp Jupiter."

"Frank, are you sure?" Hazel asked. "What about your grandmother? We can't just leave her defenseless."

"My grandmother made it clear she would be okay." I choked back a sob.

"There's still one other problem," Percy said. "Air travel is dangerous for children of Neptune and I don't know how Jupiter would take to the idea of you flying since you're both a son of Mars and legacy of Neptune."

"We'll have to risk it," I said. "Too be honest, that's not my main concern. I still don't know how to use my family gift and it might be our best chance out of here and there's something else…"

Another massive cheer went up from the Laistrygonians. I realized they were staring up at me, pointing and waving and laughing. They spotted their breakfast.

"Zhang!" They yelled. "Zhang!"

Hazel stepped closer to me. "They keep doing that. Why are they yelling your name?"

"Never mind," I said. "Listen, we've got to protect Ella, take her with us."

"Of course," Hazel said. "That poor thing needs our help"

"That's not what I mean," I responded. "She recited a prophecy downstairs. I think… I think it was about _this_ quest."

I repeated the lines I recited and brought up how the gift of Neptune might refer to my family gift or Percy's thermos.

"I don't know how a son of Neptune can drown since I can breathe underwater, but I always keep my thermos on me unless someone takes it from me," Percy said. "As or your family gift, if it comes to you saving my neck, at least I know I can trust you. Same for you, Hazel."

"The crown of the legion," Hazel said, "It has to be the Eagle."

Percy nodded. "I been thinking—Ella recited something like this once before in Portland—a line from the old Great Prophecy."

"The what?" I asked.

"Tell you later." Percy fire another water blast from his thermos and shot another cannonball out of the sky.

It exploded in an orange fireball. The ogres clapped with appreciation and yelled, "Pretty! Pretty!"

"The thing is," I said. "Ella remembers everything she reads. She said something about the page being burned, like she'd read damage text of prophecies."

Hazel's eyes widened. "Burned books of prophecy—the lost Sibylline Books that outlined the entire destiny of Rome? If Ella actually read a copy somehow, and memorized it—"

"Then she's the most valuable harpy in the world," I said. "No wonder Phineas wanted to capture her."

"Frank Zhang!" an ogre shouted from below. He was bigger than the rest, wearing a lion's cape like a Roman standard bearer and a plastic bib with a lobster on it. "Come down, son of Mars! We've been waiting for you. Come, be our honored guest!"

Hazel gripped my arm. "Why do I get the feeling that 'honored guest' means the same thing as 'dinner'?"

I wished Mars was still there. I could use somebody to snap his fingers and make my battle jitters go away.

 _Hazel believes in me_ , I thought. _I can do this._

I looked at Percy. "Can you drive?"

"Sure. Why?"

"Grandmother's car is in the garage. It's an old Cadillac. The thing is like a tank. If you can get it started—"

"We'll still have to break through a line of ogres," Hazel said.

"Percy, can you call on your hellhound? Now?" I asked.

Percy nodded. "With a blow of my whistle."

"All right, if you don't hear Laistrygonians being destroyed, blow the whistle," I said. "Meanwhile I'll buy you as much time as I can. Get Ella, pack as much weapons as you can, and get in the car."

Percy frowned. "Frank—"

"Give us your answer, Frank Zhang!" the ogre yelled up. "Come down, and we will spare the others—your friends, your poor old granny. We only want you!"

"They're lying," Percy muttered.

"Yeah, I got that," I agreed. "Go!"

My friends ran for the ladder.

I tried to control my beating heart. I grinned and yelled, "Hey, down there! Who's hungry?" the ogres cheered as I paced along the window's walk and waved like a rock star.

I tried to summon my family power. I imagined myself as a fire breathing dragon. I strained and clenched my fist and thought about dragons so hard, beads of sweat popped up from my forehead. But nothing happened.

Maybe a dragon was pushing it. I mean, I only knew what they looked like from monster fighting class.

So then I remembered those winged beast at the Amazon HQ—I think they were gryphons. That could work as a distraction, but I don't know if it will be enough.

Time for Plan B—Improvised.

I reached in for my bag that my friends left up here and took out a quiver full of arrows I grabbed in the attic labelled ASSORTED VARIETIES in my mom's hand writing and the machine gun.

The ogres started to become restless. The cheering turned to catcalls.

I swiveled the barrel and took aim at the ogres, yelling, "This is my answer!"

I pressed the trigger and eight powered spuds blasted at the lead giant in the chest, propelling him backward with such force that he crashed into a stack of bronze cannonballs, which promptly exploded, leaving a crater in the yard.

Apparently starch _was_ bad for ogres.

The ogres started running around in confusion and I was about to use my assorted varieties arrows when I heard a loud, _AROO!_

Either Percy must of used the whistle or we got lucky because a huge mastiff the size of a tank jumped out of woods and started attacking the Laistrygonians. And she wasn't alone. On her back was a single eyed Cyclopes dressed like a homeless guy, brown a hair and waving a single club as it smashed into the Laistrygonians.

After a few giants bursting into flames I decided the Cyclopes was on our side, I took the chance to headed down.

…

"What's going on out there?" Percy asked when I made it to the garage. "We heard an explosion and what sounded like a battle going on?"

"The explosion was my doing, but the battle you're hearing is a Cyclopes and hellhound destroying the Laistrygonians," I said. "Thanks for blowing the whistle by the way."

"I didn't blow the whistle," Percy said.

"It's true, we thought you were up to something," Hazel said.

I frowned. If Percy didn't blow the whistle then how did the Hellhound knew when to come or is it even Percy's pet hellhound?

Percy seemed confused before he had a look of realization. "Frank, did the Cyclops had messy brown hair… two meters tall at the shortest, dressed like he been on the streets."

"Yeah, why?" I asked.

Before he could answer the garage door opened. I quickly draw out an arrow and Hazel and Percy took out their swords. However, on the other side the cyclopes that attacked the Laistrygonians appeared behind it. Now that I got a closer look,, he was two meters tall—shorter than the cyclops in the giant army, and one large brown eye.

"Brother!" He cried as he rushed over to Percy and gave him the biggest bear hug.

Hazel and I were totally confused as Percy had a look as if it dawned to him he knew this Cyclopes.

"You are not dead!" The cyclopes said as he released Percy. "I like it when you're not dead!"

"Hey, Tyson," Percy greeted.

At that moment the massive hellhound tried to fit into my grandmother's garage but couldn't as the space wasn't big enough for her and the caddilac looking at Percy with longing eyes.

"Hey Mrs. O'Leary," Percy walked over and patted her on the head.

"Um, Percy, explain," I said.

"Uh right. Frank, Hazel, Ella this is my adopted-half-brother Tyson and my pet hellhound Mrs. O'Leary," Percy said, "Tyson, this these are friends of mine on a quest we're on, Frank, Hazel, and Ella."

Tyson seemed fixated on Ella when Percy introduced him to her.

Out of nowhere Tyson said, "You're pretty."

Ella blushed toward Tyson's compliment.

I looked at Percy who shrugged like it wasn't surprising.

Hazel and I decided that the big guy and the even bigger hellhound was no threat as we lower our weapons to him.

"Tyson listen, my friends and I are on a quest," Percy explained.

Tyson perked up. "Is that why you keep running off?"

"Yeah… sorry about that," Percy said. Percy quickly explained about the camp and the army marching toward it and how their best chance of surviving is if we free Thantos.

Tyson nodded. "Free Death God, make giant go _KABOOM_ and save the Roman camp. Can I help?"

Percy looked at me. At first I didn't know why, but then I remember that I'm supposed to be leading this quest.

"Are you sure? I don't want your brother getting hurt," I said.

Percy smiled. "I wouldn't worry about that. Tyson here is the general of the Cyclops army that serves for the Olympians. That reminds me. Tyson, Frank here is a descendant of Poseidon."

"Brother!" Tyson crushed me into a big hug.

I swear I heard Percy and Hazel stifling a laugh and giggle.

"Actually Tyson, Frank is more of your _long_ distant nephew," Percy corrected.

"So not brother?" Tyson asked with the saddest face

"Um… Oh never mind. Yeah, he's your brother," Percy said.

"Thanks," I mumbled trough the flannel although having a Cyclopes like Tyson see me as a brother can't be any worse than having Mars being my dad.

Outside we could hear the ogres roaring and I prayed that they haven't completely reformed.

"Guys, I hate to break this reunion, but we should go," Hazel said

"Right," I agreed.

We packed our duffle bags and extra bags into the trunk of the Cadillac.

"Tyson, you and Mrs. O'Leary follow us," Percy ordered.

"Right," Tyson said heading out of the garage and climbed onto Mrs. O'Leary back. Ella flew outside and landed on Mrs. O'Leary's back.

"Ella?" Hazel asked.

"Ella ride on big dog. Not so cramp," Ella said.

Seeing no way out of this, Percy yelled, "Tyson, protect Ella as well. Make sure no ogre gets her."

"I'll protect pretty Harpy," Tyson yelled.

I took the passenger seat in the front as Hazel took the seat out back. Percy started the car and gunned the engine. We shot out of the garage as Mrs. O'Leary raced after us with Tyson and Ella on her back.

The ogres that reformed tried to intercept but Percy shouted at the top of his lungs, and the irrigated system exploded. A hundred geysers shot into the air along with clods of dirt, pieces of pipe, and very heavy sprinkler heads.

I looked back to make sure Mrs. O'Leary was still following us. Not only she was, but Tyson was clubbing every ogre that tried to intervene and swatted any cannonball they threw.

Fortunately in the chaos, the ogres seemed to ignore my grandmother's house as it disappeared.

"How far to the airfield?" Percy asked.

"About three miles," I said. "You can't miss it."

Sure enough we reached the airfield. A private jet idled on the runway. Its stairs down.

Percy slammed on the breaks and we manage to stop in front of the plane.

Once we got outside we heard Ella shrieking.

"N-n-no!" she yelped. "Fly with wings! N-n-no airplanes."

"Brother, Ella won't leave Mrs. O'Leary," Tyson said.

"What should we do?" Frank asked.

Percy rubbed the back of his head. "I guess we use our original plan."

Percy turned to Tyson. "Tyson, there's a bunch of bags full of weapons in the trunk. I want you to take Ella and those weapons to Oakland hills. That's the location of the demigod camp we were at before this quest, but don't enter it without us. Instead meet us above the Caldecott Tunnel."

"I can't come with you?" Tyson had another puppy dog face. Apparently he was looking forward to joining us on this quest.

"Sorry big guy, but someone needs to protect Ella. She knows things that the enemy wants. And those weapons are the camp's best chance," Percy said, "Besides, if we make it back, you can help us make a whole army of evil monsters go _KABOOM_!"

That seem to brightened Tyson's mood as he grinned. "I'll protect Ella then. I'll contact Annabeth too. She'll be happy to know I found you. Oh! That reminds me!"

Tyson dug through his pockets and brought out a crumpled piece of paper. "Annabeth has your shield—she wanted to return it to you personally. But I kept this for you."

He handed Percy the paper. I looked at it and noticed it wasn't a paper but rather a photograph of four kids. It must have been old, because I recognize Percy in the photo as a seven-year-old kid. There was also a fourteen-year-old guy with sandy blonde hair and elfish features that somewhat resembles the children of Mercury have, an older girl—at least twelve, with black messy hair, electric blue eyes and dressed like a cross of a goth and punk, and another girl Percy's age with blond hair that curled at the end and stormy gray eyes. They stood together with boys on one end and girls on the other with arms linked by the shoulders like one big happy family.

Suddenly I felt as if I was intruding on a private matter.

Percy smiled at the picture and stuffed it in his pocket. "Thanks, Tyson. When you see Annabeth, tell her I missed her."

"Will do," Tyson agreed.

"Camp," Ella muttered before speaking in Latin: _"'Wisdom's daughter walks alone, the Mark of Athena burns through Rome."_

Percy Hazel and I looked at each other. It sounded like Ella was reciting another prophecy.

At that moment we heard the Laistrygonians roared as they started appearing.

Percy Hazel and I quickly grabbed our main weapons and breast plates and three empty backpacks Percy and Hazel grabbed for this moment. I stuffed my normal arrows into the quiver full of variety assortment arrows so I had twice as many Arrows.

Tyson manage to grab all the bags and loaded all of them on Mrs. O'Leary.

"See you at the Roman Camp, brothers," Tyson yelled as he got on Mrs. O'Leary ran to the nearest shadow and the three of them—including Ella melted into the shadows.

"I'll miss her," Hazel said sadly.

"I'm sure we'll see her again," Percy said trying to hide his troubled look that he had since Ella recited the last prophecy.

An explosion sent part of the airfield fence line spinning into the air.

I tossed my grandmother's letter to Percy. "Show that to the pilot. Show him your letter from Reyna too! We've got to take off _now_."

Percy nodded. He and Hazel ran for the plane.

I took cover behind the Cadillac and started firing at the ogres. I targeted the largest clump of enemies and shot a tulip-shaped arrow. Just as I'd hoped, it was a hydra.

Ropes lashed out like squid tentacles, and the entire front row of ogres plowed face first into the dirt.

I heard the plane's engines rev.

I shot three more arrows as fast as I could, which turned out to be blasting arrows, as they blasted enormous craters in the ogres ranks. The survivors were only a hundred yards away, and some of the brighter ones stumbled to a stop, realizing they were now within hurling range.

"Frank!" Hazel shrieked. "Come on!"

A fiery cannonball hurtled toward me in a slow arc. I knew instantly it was going to hit the plane. I nocked an arrow. _I can do this_ , I thought. I let the arrow fly. It intercepted the cannonball midair, detonating a massive fireball. Another two cannonballs sailed toward me and I ran.

Behind me, metal groaned as the Cadillac exploded. I dove into the plane just as the stairs started to rise.

The pilot must've understood the situation just fine. There was no safety announcement, no pre-flight drink, and no waiting for clearance. He pushed the throttle, and the plane shot down the runway. Another blast ripped through the runway behind us, but then we were in the air.

I looked down and saw the airstrip riddled with craters like a piece of burning Swiss cheese. Swaths of Lynn Canyon Park was on fire but there was no sign of fire where the Zhang family mansion, as if the ogres were too busy with me to remember about my grandmother.

I failed to grab my grandmother, I failed to use my powers, but at least my grandmother will be able to keep her promise about letting herself be killed by ogres (although I tried to push back the thought of the inevitable of her death). And now Ella was in safe hands for the moment. After what Tyson did for us, I really started to believe that cyclopes might be on our side, and—as surprise as I am to admit it—glad I'm related to him. As the view was blocked off by clouds, I realize that even though at the end of this quest if I survive I'll be the last of the Zhang family, I'm not out of family members.

The plane banked to the left.

Over the intercom, the pilot's voice said, _"Senatus Populusque Romanus,_ my friends. Welcome aboard. Next stop: Anchorage, Alaska."


	37. Percy's POV Part XIII

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **Percy's POV Part XIII**

Seeing my brother again practically brought back all of my memories. The time Annabeth Tyson and I along with a daughter of Mars—no wait… scratch that—daughter of Ares: Clarisse la Rue, were on a quest in the sea of Monsters. The time we were in the Labyrinth. Meeting the Hundred Handed one who also accepted me as his brother. Seeing the lost god Pan faded.

But what really jump started the rest of my memories was that photo Tyson gave to me. Every memory that I had before I met Tyson washed over me like a wave. I remember the camp I came from before Camp Jupiter. My centaur teacher: Chiron. My friends: Beckendorf, Silena, Michael Yew, Grover, Juniper, Ethan and Rachel. I also remember the fact that not only I knew Nico, but I also know his sister Bianca. I remember what the beads of my necklace represents—the fun times and the sad times.

I remembered my mom—who must be upset now of my disappearance, and my step father Paul. I remembered being on swim teams after I started living with my mom again.

I remember Halcyon Green and his predictions and the day I got Riptide. I remembered when I found out the history of my sword—when it belonged to Zoë Nightshade back before she joined the hunters and when and why she gave it to Hercules.

I remembered my pegasus Blackjack, who been a loyal friend since I saved him.

I remember Luke Castellan: the son of Hermes—Mercury's Greek form—who I saw as a brother gave up his life to stop Kronos who was using his body as a vessel. I remember how he hated his father for abandoning him to live with his insane mother without knowing what really happen to her.

I remember Thalia Grace: daughter of Zeus—Jupiter's Greek Form—who was a sister to me that joined the Hunters of Artemis, just like Bianca did. I remembered years before when she sacrificed her life so I could make it to camp with my friends and how after we got the Golden Fleece it brought her back to us. I also remember the story she shared to me about her brother Jason.

Jason—I quickly realized the camper everyone at Camp Jupiter might have been Thalia's kid brother who I promised that I would treat as a brother when I meet him.

Most importantly, I remembered Annabeth. I could feel my heart beat excitedly at all the memories I have of her.

I wanted to return to that life so badly, but at the same time I felt torn. I knew I couldn't leave Frank and Hazel in the middle of this quest. I knew I couldn't leave Camp Jupiter at the mercy of the monsters. Not after how they took me in.

No! First save Camp Jupiter, then find Annabeth and the Camp. Besides, I still have hope for a future in Camp Jupiter with Annabeth after high school.

But first I need to survive this plane ride. Every time the plane hit a spot of turbulence, my heart raced and I was sure either Zeus or Jupiter was slapping us around.

That's right, I believed that the Olympians have different personas. It was a bit obvious now that I think about it since I've met Juno's and Mars' Greek forms: Hera and Ares. It made me wonder what kind of god Neptune is compared to Poseidon.

Which reminds me I still have to break the news to Frank and Hazel. From what I understand, we may have saved his family home, but we only prolong his grandmother's death.

Frank refused to explained about the family gift, but I had a good feeling what it was now that I had my memories back. Frank did tell us about his conversation with Mars the night before. He explained the prophecy Juno had issued when he was a baby—about his life being tied to a piece of firewood—another thing I recognized from the old stories—and how he had asked Hazel to keep it for him.

Somehow that wasn't surprising. I knew Hazel and Frank had shared some crazy experiences when they had blacked out together, and they'd made some kind of deal. Plus, I noticed that Frank kept checking his pocket and was nervous around fire.

"You were right, Percy," Frank said, "Everything that is going on—it's all connected to the Prophecy of seven."

Hazel tucked her feet underneath her. She studied me with her luminescent golden eyes, and I wondered how she could be so calm. She was the youngest one on the quest, but she always holding us together and comforting us. Now we were flying to Alaska, where she had died once before. If we free Thantos, would she be spared because she's part of the prophecy, or would Thantos take her back to the Underworld.

I took out the photo of Thalia Luke Annabeth and me nine years ago. Mostly I looked at Annabeth. Tyson said she had my shield and was planning to return it too me personally.

"That photo is an important piece of your past isn't it?" Hazel asked.

I nodded.

"Can we see it?"

I hesitated for a bit before handing it to her.

Hazel studied the photo. "Who are these people in the photo?"

"The blonde girl is Annabeth Chase," I said.

"Your girlfriend?" Frank asked.

"Yep," I said, "Back then we were best friends. The sandy hair guy is Luke Castellan and the Dark hair girl is Thalia Grace."

Hazel froze. "Did you say Grace?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"Why? What's up with the name?" Frank asked.

"Frank, that's Jason's last name," Hazel said. "Whose Thalia's father."

"Zeus—I mean Jupiter," I said, "Not only that, but I do think Jason and Thalia do share the same mortal mother."

I ended up explaining about this story Thalia told me a few years back.

"Wait, if you're right, then Jason found his way back to Camp Jupiter and Thalia didn't," Frank responded. "How can that be?"

"She's a Greek demigod," Hazel said. "She's not a daughter of Jupiter, is she? She's actually a daughter of Zeus."

I nodded.

"And Annabeth and this guy—Luke Castellan, they're Greek demigods too, right?"

"Yeah," I said, "Luke was the son of Hermes, Mercury's Greek form; and Annabeth is the daughter of Athena, Minerva's Greek form."

"Minerva has kids?" Frank asked. "I thought she's a virgin goddess."

"She was—or rather is," I sighed and ended up explaining how Athena has kids. "I think only Athena uses that method which is why there aren't any children of Minerva in Camp Jupiter."

"But where do Greek demigods go?" Hazel asked.

"There's another camp—Camp Half-Blood," I said.

"Another camp?" Hazel repeated. "A _Greek_ camp? Gods if Octavian found out—"

"He'd declared war," Frank said. "He always been sure the Greeks were out there, plotting against us. He thought Percy was a spy. And if he find out about that prophecy Ella started about the child of wisdom—gods, there's no telling what would happen."

"You said Jason led the Roman camp to attack the titans on Mount Othyrus last summer, right? Well last summer I led the Greeks to defend Olympus. Olympians must have covered wat each side did, because we thought when we stopped Kronos, his palace fell."

"And when the Romans destroyed Saturn's palace, we thought Saturn fell," Hazel said.

I nodded. "Juno must have exchange me with Jason as some part of an exchange of leaders. I wouldn't be surprise if Juno's Greek form Hera had some part in it as well. Jason must be in Camp Half-Blood with the other four chosen demigods, and judging from one of my dream visions, Jason is working with the other three chosen demigods on building a flying warship."

Frank tapped nervously on the back of his seat. "Mars said Juno wants to unite the Greeks and Romans to fight Gaea. But, jeez—Greek and Romans have a long history of bad blood."

Hazel took a deep breath. "That's probably why the gods have kept us apart this long. If a Greek warship appeared in the sky above Camp Jupiter, and Reyna didn't know it was friendly—"

"Yeah," I agreed. "We've got to be careful how we explain this when we get back. I just hope you guys still trust me after finding out who I really am."

Hazel did something I didn't expected. She leaned over and kissed me in a sisterly way on the cheek. She also handed me back my photo.

"Of course we trust you," she said. "We're a family now. And we'll accept your Greeks, won't we, Frank?"

"Sure," he said. "Do I get a kiss?"

Hazel laughed, but there was nervous tension in it. "Anyway, what do we do now?"

Good question. Today is the twenty-third and tomorrow is the Feast of Fortuna. Tomorrow Camp Jupiter was in danger. Hopefully Tyson will get in contact with everyone at Camp Half-Blood. As for now…

"Okay," I said. "First thing first, Hazel, tell me everything you know about Hubard Glacier, the first Alaska expedition Michael Varus led, and most importantly if you can what was used to bring Alcyoneus back."

"Okay, I get the first two parts, but why the last part?" Frank asked.

"Precious stones and metal have weaknesses, right? If we know what was used what Alcyoneus is made out of, we can use it to our advantage to find a way to beat him," I said. "But if you can't Hazel, you don't have to tell us."

Hazel took a deep breath and nodded. "I'll try."

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm glad most of you liked the last chapter. I figured it would be hard for Percy Hazel and Frank to hold onto Arion later while carrying three duffle bags, so I decided to lighten their load while at the same time help increase the stock of weapons for Camp Jupiter with the Zhang Family stock of weapons, that-as I stated in the Last chapter-Frank would of probably inherit if the Laistrygonian giants didn't destroy them along with his family mansion after his grandmother dies since Frank is the last living Zhang-at least in North America.


	38. Percy's POV Part XIV

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **Percy's POV Part XIV**

After a few hours of talking and planning, we made it to Alaska. From the window of the plane, we could see a glittering inlet of sea snaked between snowy mountains. In the distance, a city was carved out of the wilderness, surrounded by lush green forests on one side and icy black beaches in the other.

After we landed and got off the pilot said he couldn't wait for us, but that's okay with me. If we survived till the next day, I hoped we could find a different way back— _anything_ but a plane. I do know when we get back, I'm going to leave offerings at the Temple of Jupiter as thanks for _not_ knocking us out of the sky, and possibly burn offerings to Zeus too.

I should've been depressed. I was stuck in Alaska, the giant's home territory, out of contact with my friends at Camp. We only have one day too complete an impossible task.

Still, I felt invigorated. Having my memories back made me feel like I could do this. I still have the Mark of Achilles and my vulnerable point is protected by the armor we put on in the plane. Most importantly I remember what I told Annabeth before when I thought I was destined to die due to the first Great Prophecy. Back then I spend my moments trying to enjoy the moments and not think of the inevitable.

The only problem is it's hard not to think of the inevitable when you face battles that could bring the inevitable. Still, I gave my friends the same advice back on the plane. They were skeptical of the idea, but Hazel agreed that it was better than nothing.

Still, I can't help but think of the reason Juno had stolen my memory and sent me to Camp Jupiter. I understand it perfectly, but I still wanted to punch her in the face. Still, if the two camps could work together, they stood a chance of stopping their mutual enemies.

We took a taxi into downtown Anchorage, as I told Frank and Hazel about Camp Half-Blood and the training style. If the two camps are going to join together against the giants, Frank and Hazel should find out about the Greek Fighting Style. I also filled Frank in with other abilities he might have by being a son of Mars.

"Wait, I can manipulate weapons?" Frank asked.

"Yeah," I said, "If you prove yourself to your father, and if Mars grants it there's a chance you can gain the blessing of Mars, which is similar to the Achilles Curse, minus being 99% invulnerable. Trust me Frank, as annoying as your father could be, and even more troublesome Ares is, the powers you got from him does have their upsides."

I didn't dare to bring up that I know most of these because of my secret-friendship with Clarisse la Rue: daughter of Ares. Mostly because Frank and Clarisse are nothing alike, and not just because Clarisse is a Greek demigod and Frank is a Roman Demigod, but also the fact I don't want Frank to feel like there's a comparison between him and those from Ares Cabin personality wise.

The taxi turned on Highway One, which looked more like a small street to me, and took them north toward downtown. It was late afternoon, but the sun was still high in the sky.

"I can't believe how much this place has grown," Hazel muttered.

The taxi driver grinned in the rearview mirror. "Been a long time since you visited, miss?"

"About seventy years," Hazel said.

The driver slid the glass partition closed and drove on in silence.

According to Hazel, almost none of the buildings were the same, but she pointed out features of the landscape: the vast forest ringing the city, the cold, gray waters of Cook Inlet tracing the north edge of town, and the Chugach Mountains rising grayish-blue in the distance, capped with snow even in June. I had never smelled air this clean before. The town itself had a weather-beaten look to it, with closed stores, rusted-out cars, and worn apartment complexes lining the road, but it was still beautiful. Lakes and huge stretches of woods cut through the middle. The arctic sky was an amazing combination of turquoise and gold.

There were dozens of bright blue giants that rose thirty feet tall with gray frosty hair—Hyperborean Giants. I remember fighting them back during the Battle of Manhattan, but these were obviously more peaceful. They were wadding through forest, fishing in the bay, and striding across the mountains. The mortals didn't notice them of course. The taxi passed within yards of one who was sitting at the edge of a lake washing his feet.

"Um…" Frank pointed at the blue guy.

"Hyperboreans," I said, "They're kind of like northern frost giant cousins of the Laistrygonians, except more peaceful—usually."

"Usually?" Hazel asked.

"I had to fight a few during the Battle of Manhattan," I said. "That's the battle we had when the Greek Camp defended Olympus."

Hazel nodded. "I remember them usually being peaceful. They're everywhere in Alaska, like bears."

"Bears?" Frank asked nervously.

"The giants are invisible to mortals," Hazel said. "They never bother me, though one almost stepped on me by accident once."

"That's true, you do need to watch them when you're in their path," I agreed.

That didn't seem to improve Frank's mood as the taxi kept driving. None of giants paid no attention. One stood right at the intersection of Northern Lights Road, straddling the highway, and we drove between his legs. One Hyper borean was cradling a Native American Totem pole wrapped in furs, humming to it like a baby, which was kind of cute in a thirty-foot-tall giant kind of way.

The taxi drove through down town, past a bunch of tourists shops advertising furs, Native American Art, and gold.

As the driver turned and headed toward the seashore, Hazel knocked on the glass partition. "Here is good. Can you let us out?"

We paid the driver and stepped onto Fourth Street. Compared to Vancouver, downtown Anchorage was tiny—more like a college campus than a city, but it apparently grew since Hazel was last here seventy years ago.

"It's _huge_ ," she said. "That's—that's where the Gitchell Hotel used to be. My mom and I stayed there our first week in Alaska. And they've moved City Hall. It used to be there."

She led us in in a daze for a few blocks. We made plans on how to get Hubbard Glacier, but according to Hazel the trains we need to take haven't arrived yet. Then I smelled something cooking nearby—sausage, maybe? I realized I hadn't eaten since that morning at Grandma Zhang's (or in distant relation terms: Distant Niece-Grandma Zhang).

"Food," I said. "Come on."

We found a café right by the beach. It was bustling with people, but we scored a table at the window and perused the menus. It was dinner time, but you wouldn't tell with the sun so high.

Frank whooped with delight. "Twenty-four-hour breakfast!"

This made Hazel smile in a playful way. I couldn't help but think that Hazel and Frank should be together. They obviously cared for each other. But it also made me miss Annabeth and wonder if I would see her again.

 _Think positive,_ I told myself.

All of us ordered massive plates of eggs, pancakes, and reindeer sausage, though Frank looked a little worried about the reindeer. "You think it's okay that we're eating Rudolf?"

"Dude, I'm so hungry I could eat Prancer and Blitzen," I said.

Frank didn't argue after that. In fact, I don't think I have ever seen anyone eat as fast as Frank.

"So we're going to take a train to your home town, right Hazel?" I asked.

Hazel nodded. "We should be able to catch it to Seward. That's the closest town to Hubbard Glacier. But once we get to Seward, we'll either have to take a boat or plane there. We'll first try for a boat, but if we can't we'll have to risk flying again."

I gazed out the window. We only had twenty-four hours left. Twenty-four Hours to free death. Otherwise the Giant army will flood Camp Jupiter and the Romans would be the main course.

Across the street, a frosty black sand beach led down to the sea, which was as smooth as steel. The ocean here felt different—still powerful, but freezing, slow, and primal. No gods controlled that water. At least, no gods with connections to Olympus. Neither Neptune nor Poseidon would be able to protect me here. I should still be able to use my powers though, right? Hazel said she was still able to summon precious metal and stones here. But that could also because Gaea allowed it.

A Hyperborean giant lumbered across the street. Nobody in the café noticed. The giant stepped into the bay, cracking the ice under his sandals, and thrust his hands in the water. He brought out a killer whale in one fist. Apparently that wasn't what he wanted, because he threw the whale back and kept wading.

"Good breakfast," Frank said. "Who's ready for a train ride?"

…

The station wasn't far. We were just in time to buy tickets for the last train south. As my friends climbed on board, I said, "Be with you in a sec," and ran back into the station.

I got change from the gift shop and stood in front of a pay phone.

I'd never used a pay phone before. I'm not even sure if it was safe for demigods to use one.

Maybe it pains me to say this, but might it be best not to contact anyone I remember from Camp Half-Blood just in case, but I can at least contact my mom. Plus after missing _seven months_ of my life, I'm sure she's worried.

I remember when I got myself lost when I was seven after I mistaken Mrs. O'Leary playfully pouncing on me as an attack, and how glad she was to find I was alive and hearing how worried she was.

I picked up the receiver and punched in a New York Number to my mom's apartment.

I got voice mail which isn't shocking. It's probably midnight in New York and my mom isn't the type to answer the phone to a number she didn't recongnized.

I heard my stepdad Paul's voice on the recording and I tried to pull it together.

"Mom, it's me Percy," I said. "You probably hear from Tyson or at least Annabeth, but I thought I let you know I'm alive. Hera put me to sleep and had me go to a demigod camp for demigod children of the Roman Gods with no memory. Right now I'm on a quest with a couple of friends I made in the camp and I manage to regain my memories, with a little help from Tyson." I winced a bit as I realized I made a mistake bringing up the quest and my memories but it was too late. "Tyson found us and helped us out. He's not with me right now, though." Again I winced. I better choose my next words carefully. "We had to send him back to the Roman Camp with some weapons for the camp and to protect Harpy we befriended along the way."

I sighed, "Mom, I know you're probably worried about me right now, but I promise I'll make it home and when I do, I might have new siblings for you to meet. And if you see Annabeth, tell her I still missed her. I love you and tell Paul I said hi."

I put down the receiver. Most would find that last part about siblings odd, but my mom would understand. After all, it's not the first time I disappeared and came home with demigods I look to as siblings. Plus it might be best mom heard it from me that I'm alive. I was tempted to call Annabeth too, but I had to remind myself that I don't know the risk of demigods using payphones to contact other demigods.

At that moment the train whistle sounded. The conductor shouted, "All aboard."

I ran. I made it just as they were pulling up the steps, then climbed to the top of the double decker car and slid into my seat.

Hazel frowned. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I croaked. "Just… made a call to my mom."

Hazel and Frank seemed to get that. They didn't ask for details.

Soon we were heading south along the coast, watching the landscape go by. Once in a while I saw bald eagles soared overhead. The train raced over the bridge and along cliffs where glacial falls tumbled thousands of feet down the rocks. We passed forests buried in snowdrifts, big artillery guns (to set off small avalanches and prevent uncontrolled ones, Hazel explained), and lakes so clear, they reflect the mountains like mirrors, so the world looked upside down.

Brown bears lumbered through the meadows. Hyperborean giants kept appearing in the strangest places. One was lounging in a lake like it was a hot tub. Another was using a pine tree as a toothpick. A third sat in a snowdrift, playing with two live moose like they were action figures. The train was full of tourist ohhing and ahhing and snapping pictures, but I felt sorry they couldn't see the Hyperboreans. They were missing the really good shots.

Meanwhile, Frank studied a map of Alaska that he'd found in the seat pocket. He located Hubbard Glacier, which looked discouragingly far away from Seward. He kept running his finger along the coast line, frowning with concentration.

"What are you thinking?" I asked.

"Just… Possibilities," Frank said.

I decided not to think about what that meant.

After about an hour, I started to relax. We bought hot chocolate from the dining car. The seats were warm and comfortable, and I thought about taking a nap.

Then a shadow passed overhead. Tourist murmured in excitement and started taking pictures.

"Eagle!" one yelled.

"Eagle?" said another.

"Huge eagle!" said a third.

"That's no eagle," Frank said.

I looked up just in time to see the creature make a second pass. It was definitely larger than an eagle, with a sleek black body the size of a Labrador retriever. Its wingspan was at least ten feet across.

"There's another one!" Frank pointed. "Strike that. Three, four. Okay, we're in trouble."

The gryphons circled the train like vultures, delighting the tourist. I wasn't delighted. The monsters had glowing red eyes, sharp beaks, and vicious talons.

I felt for my pen in my pockets. "Gryphons."

"What?" Frank asked.

"Gryphons," Hazel said, "The Amazons had in a cage back in Seattle. This isn't good."

Then several things happened at once. The emergency brake screeched, pitching us forward. Tourist screamed and tumbled through the aisles. The monsters swooped down, shattering the glass roof of the car, and the entire train toppled off the rails.


	39. Percy's POV Part XV

**Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

 **A/N (I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book

* * *

 **Percy's POV Part XV**

The moment the train crashed I felt myself going weightless. My vision blurred. Claws grabbed my arms and lifted me into the air. Below, train wheels and metal crashed. Glass shattered. Passengers screamed.

When my eyesight cleared, I saw the Gryphon that was carrying me aloft. It had the body of a panther—sleek, black, and feline—with wings and head of an eagle. Its eyes glow blood red.

I squirmed. The monster's front talons were wrapped around my arms like steel bands and yet avoiding my vulnerable spot as if keeping me alive for something else. I couldn't free myself or reached my sword or thermos. I rose higher and higher in the cold wind. I had no idea where the monster was taking me, but I was pretty sure I wouldn't like it when I get there.

I yelled mostly out in frustration, but also hoping my friends can hear me.

Then something whistled by my ear. An arrow sprouted from the monster's neck. The creature shrieked and let go.

As I fell I quick uncapped my thermos and aimed toward the ground. I summoned a water blast with all my will power. The water fired out breaking through every tree branch until it hit the ground and slowed down my fall enough that I crashed without breaking a bone.

Hazel and Frank caught up with me with their sword and bow drawn. Frank shot down as many Gryphons as he could as Hazel cut through any gryphon that came close.

I quickly capped my thermos and draw out Riptide. I sliced the wing off one monster and sent it spiraling into a tree, then sliced through another that burst into dust. But the defeated ones began to reform quickly.

"We have to get them away from the trains!" Hazel said.

I saw what she meant. The train cars had fallen over, and their roofs had shattered. Tourists were stumbling around in shock. I didn't see anybody seriously injured, but the gryphons were swooping toward anything that moved. The only thing keeping them away from the mortals was a glowing gray warrior in camouflage—Frank's pet _Spactus_.

I glanced over and noticed Frank's spear was gone. "You used your last charge?"

"Yeah." Frank shot an arrow that must have been an explosive time because when it hit the Gryphon it exploded. "I had to help the mortals. The spear just dissolved."

I nodded feeling relieved and disappointed. Relieved because I don't completely trust Gray, but disappointed because that was one less weapon in our disposal. But I didn't blame Frank. Frank had done the right thing.

"Let's move the fight!" I said. "Away from the tracks!" We stumbled through the snow, smacking exploding and slicing gryphons that reformed from dust every time they were killed. Fortunately, one of the arrows Frank fired ended up multiplying and striking down the gryphons, which spared him some hours.

About fifty yards from the tracks, the trees gave way to an open marsh. The ground was so spongy and icy, I felt like I was racing across Bubble Wrap. Frank was out of his special arrows and now was down to his regular arrows. Hazel was breathing hard. Even I could feel myself growing tired by the second from the Achilles Curse.

We need to stop then somehow. If memory serves me right Gryphons hates horses, but Arion wasn't here.

That's when I tripped over something in the tall grass—a circle of scrap metal about the size of a tractor tire. It was a massive bird's nest—a _gryphon's_ nest—the bottom littered with old pieces of jewelry, an Imperial gold dagger, a dented centurion badge, and two pumpkin-size eggs that looked like real gold.

Except for the eggs, the nest reminded me of the Myrmekes den back in camp Half-Blood. Which started giving me ideas but not enough to help us.

I looked around and sure enough found a Hyperborean a quarter mile from here sitting in the bog, peacefully picking mud from between his toes with a broken tree trunk.

Now I got a plan.

I jumped into the nest. I pressed my sword tip against one of the eggs. "Back off, or I break it!"

The gryphons squawked angrily. They buzzed around the nest and snapped their beaks, but they didn't attack. Hazel and Frank stood back to back with me, their weapons ready.

"Gryphons collect gold," Hazel said. "They're crazy for it. Look—more nest over there."

"Guys," Frank said nervously, "I see legion relics in this nest. That means other demigods died here, or—"

"I know, Frank. Don't worry," I promised. "Hazel—all the gold in these nests. Do you think you can use it to cause a distraction?"

"I—I guess."

"Just give us enough time for a head start. When I say _go_ , run for the giant."

Frank gasped at me. "You want us to run _toward_ a giant?"

"Trust me," I said. "Ready? Go!"

Hazel thrust her hand upward. From a dozen nests across the marsh, golden objects shot into the air—jewelry, weapons, coins, gold nuggets, and most importantly, Gryphon eggs. The monsters shrieked and flew after their eggs, frantic to save them.

My friends and I ran. Our feet splashed and crunched through the frozen marsh. I poured on the speed, but I could hear the gryphons closing behind us, and now the monsters were _really_ angry.

The giant hadn't noticed the commotion yet. He was inspecting his toes for mud, his face sleepy and peaceful, his white whiskers glistening with ice crystals. Around his neck was a necklace of found objects—garbage cans, car doors, moose antlers, camping equipment, even a toilet. Apparently he'd been cleaning up the wilderness.

I hated to disturb him, especially since it meant taking shelter under the giant's thighs, but we didn't have much choice.

"Under!" I told my friends. "Crawl under!"

We scrambled between the massive blue legs and flatten ourselves in the mud, crawling as close as we could to his loincloth. I tried to breathe through my mouth, but it wasn't the most pleasant hiding spot.

"What's the plan?" Frank hissed. "Get flatten by a blue rump?"

"Lay low," I said. "Only move if you have to."

The gryphons arrived in a wave of angry beaks, talons, and wings, swarming around the giant, trying to get under his legs.

The giant rumbled in surprise. He shifted and I had to roll to avoid getting crushed by his large hairy rear. The Hyperborean grunted, a little more irritated. He swatted at the gryphons, but they squawked in outrage and began pecking at his legs and hands.

"Ruh?" the giant bellowed. "Ruh!"

He took a deep breath and blew out a wave of cold air. Even under the protection of the giant's legs, I could feel the temperature drop. The gryphons' shrieking stopped abruptly, replaced by the _thunk, thunk, thunk_ of heavy objects hitting the mud.

"Come on," I told my friends. "Carefully."

We squirmed out from under the giant. All around the marsh, trees were glazed with frost. A huge swath of the bog was covered in fresh snow. Frozen Gryphons stuck out of the ground like feathery Popsicle sticks, their wings still spread, beaks open, eyes with surprise.

My friends and I scrambled away, trying to keep out of the giant's vision, but the big guy was too busy to notice us. He was trying to figure out how to string frozen gryphons onto his necklace.

"Percy…" Hazel wiped the ice and mud from her face. "How did you now the giant could do that?"

"Like I said before: some of my friends from Camp Half-Blood and I had to fight Hyperborean Giants during the Battle of Manhattan," I replied. "We better move. The gryphons won't stay frozen forever."


	40. Percy's POV Part XVI

**A/N:** Twelve chapters left of this story. Which means Frank Hazel and Percy have four chapters each left.

 **(I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book.

 **Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

* * *

 **Percy's POV Part XVI**

The moment we heard a helicopter flying in the direction of the train wreck, I quickly used Mist Manipulation to disguised our forms from mortal eyes as we walk along side of the train tracks. Twice we heard the screech of gryphons, but they sounded a long way off.

As near as I could figure, it was about midnight when the sun finally set. It got cold pretty quickly. The stars were so thick, I was tempted to stop and gawk at them. Then the northern lights cranked up. Thy reminded me of my mom's gas stovetop back home, when she had the flames on low—waves of ghostly blue flames rippling back and forth.

"That's amazing," Fran said.

"Bears," Hazel pointed. Sure enough, a couple of brown bears were lumbering in the meadow a few hundred feet away, their coats gleaming in the starlight. "They won't bother us," Hazel promised. "Just give them a wide berth."

Frank and I didn't argue.

As we trudged on, I thought about the time I met the Lord of the Wild: Pan. If this place wasn't beyond the gods' control, I would of thought this be the place where Pan would rest in hope to one-day fade. I mean, Alaska was more wilderness than Human Civilization.

But at the same time, I see why it was the land beyond the gods. Everything here was rough and untamed. There were no rules, no prophecies, no destinies—just the harsh wilderness and a bunch of animals and monsters. Mortals and demigods came here at their own risk.

I wonder if this was what Gaea wanted—for the whole world to be like this. It seems cool and all, but I don't want the world to be under Gaea's control, and I surely don't want Gaea to wake up.

After another couple of hours, we stumbled across a tiny village between the railroad tracks and a two-lane road. The city limit sign said: MOOSE PASS. Standing next to the sign was an actual moose. For a second, I thought it might be some sort of statue for advertising. Then the animal bounded into the woods.

We passed a couple of houses, a post office, and some trailers. Everything was dark and closed up. On the other end of town was a store with a picnic table and an old rusted petrol pump in front.

The store had a hand-painted sign that read: MOOSE PASS GAS.

"That's just wrong," Frank said.

By silent agreement we collapsed around the picnic table.

My feet felt like blocks of ice—very _sore_ blocks of ice. Hazel put her head in her hands and passed out, snoring. Frank took out his last sodas and some granola bars from the train ride and shared them with me.

We ate in silence, watching the stars although I was looking at the constellations, which I started pointing out.

"There's Hercules, and over there is Sagittarius, and over there—" I pointed a little far form the right from the west, "Is Ursa Major."

"You sure know a lot about Constellations," Frank said.

I shrugged but judging from Frank's expression something else was bothering him. "Are you okay?"

Frank shrugged. "I'm supposed to be in charge of this quest, the centurion, and all. I feel like you guys have had to carry me."

"Hey, leading a quest for the first time is always the hardest," I said.

"Still, I'm supposed to have these powers I haven't been able to tap into," Frank said bitterly. "Now I don't have a spear, and I'm out of my variety assortment arrow. And… I'm scared."

"Frank, we're all scared," I stated. "We're about to go up against a powerful giant on our own with no gods help. You have to be crazy not to be scared."

"But the Feast of Fortuna is…"

"Isn't until sundown tonight," I said. "Take it from someone who been on tight deadlines before. You can't give up just because we only have eighteen hours to complete this quest and save the camp. We'll free Thantos, and if you and Hazel are truly part of the Prophecy of Seven, then I bet you the fates will find a way to prevent Thantos from taking your lives."

Frank gazed at Hazel, still snoring lightly. Her face was buried under a mass of curly brown hair.

"I hope you're right," Frank said. "I lost my mom, eventually will loose my grandmother. I can't lose Hazel, too. She's my best friend."

I don't blame him. Now that I have my memories returning, I became more aware of my fatal flaw of Personal Loyalty and the choices I made in this quest that could have gone wrong because of it. I can't afford to let my loyalty get the best of me.

"Don't worry about it, Frank," I said. "Like I said. If you and Hazel are meant to be part of the Prophecy of Seven, I'm sure the Fates will make sure you two live to see it through. And Frank, you _are_ a leader. Hazel would say the same thing. We need you."

Frank lowered his head. He seemed lost in thought. Finally, he leaned forward until his head bumped the picnic table. He started to snore in harmony with Hazel.

I held back a laugh as it reminded me of how Grover would fall asleep almost the exact same way. "Rest up, Frank. Big day ahead."

…

At dawn, the store opened up and I woke up to the owner staring us crashed out on his picnic table. Fortunately, after I explained how we had stumbled away from last night's train wreck, the guy felt sorry for us and treated us to breakfast. He also called a friend of his, and Inuit native who had a cabin close to Seward. Soon we were rumbling along the road in a beat-up Ford pickup that had been new about the time Hazel was born.

Hazel and Frank sat in the back as I rode up front with the leathery old man, who smelled like smoked salmon. He told me stories about Bear and Raven, the Inuit gods. I remember having a conversation I had with Chiron about other cultural gods, and how he wouldn't say anything else other than one culture thought of humans being vessels to their gods.

The truck broke down a few miles outside Seward. The driver didn't seem surprised, as though this happened to him several times a day. He said we could wait for him to fix the engine, but since Seward was only a few miles away, we decided to walk it.

By midmorning, we climbed over a rise in the road and saw a small bay ringed with mountains. The town was a thin crescent on the right-hand shore, with wharves extending into the water and a cruise ship in the harbor.

I shuddered. I'd had bad experiences with cruise ships.

"Seward," Hazel said. She didn't sound happy to see her old home.

I don't know why I decided to travel through the meadow. Maybe it was the fact that despite my speech to Frank, I did felt anxious myself to get to Seward right away. Whatever the reason was, I took the risk and step off the road into slushy ground.

The last thing I heard was Hazel shouting, "Percy, no!" as my next step led to me being sinking into the earth like a stone.

The last thought that ran through my head was the warning Hazel gave us about Muskeg on the plane and how stupid of me to forget about it as the earth swallow me whole.

 _You're mine now Percy Jackson,_ I heard Gaea said. _Nothing your friends can do to save you._

I gasped, trying to breath but couldn't. I was drowning. Just as Ella said it would be.

Then it dawn to me. If this is what Ella was referring to, then my best chance right now could possibly be the gift my father gave me for my first quest.


	41. Hazel's POV Part XIII

**A/N** **(I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book.

 **Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

* * *

 **Hazel's POV Part XIII**

"Frank, your bow!" I yelled.

Frank didn't ask questions. He dropped his pack and slipped his bow off his shoulder.

I can't believe Percy forgot about the Muskeg. I warned him and Frank on the plane about it. But right now we need to save him and hope that the bog wasn't deeper than the length of Frank's bow.

"Hold one end," I told Frank. "Don't let go."

I held my breath and was about to jump in when I heard a rumbling sound from the Muskeg. Just then Percy shot out of the Muskeg like a Geyser with his thermos firing a strong jet of water.

Percy landed on the ground completely covered in mud and ice.

"I don't want to do that again," Percy gasped.

"Percy!" Frank and I yelled as we rushed to him. Percy was shivering and his lips were blue, but he was fine.

"What happened?" Frank asked.

Percy held up his thermos shakily. "Gift from my dad, remember?"

I realized what he meant. Percy used his thermos to over come the Muskeg.

"Percy that was the riskiest move!" I slapped him.

"Sorry," Percy chattered.

"Hazel, we can yell at Percy later, we should take him somewhere where he could warm up," Frank said.

I nodded. "Come on, we can go back to my place."

 _Are you sure about that, Hazel Levesque?_ I heard Gaea said.

I looked at the direction of the voice, and found the Muskeg forming a sleeping woman's face.

"Percy Jackson has avoided my grip but you can still join me. You do want your old life back, right?" Gaea asked. "I can give you that. You can grow up in New Orleans back when your mother adore you. You'll never have to deal with the burden of your curse. You can be with Sammy."

"Don't listen to her, Hazel," Frank said grabbing my shoulder, "Snap out of it."

"You think your friends wants what's best for you? You're not even supposed to be alive. You were only brought back to life because the gods have a task for you. I may have used you, but Nico used you _and_ lied about it. You should be glad I captured him."

"Captured?" A feeling of panic rose in my chest.

"What are you talking about?" Percy managed, "What did you do to Nico, Gaea?"

Gaea smiled. "The boy should have known better than to search for the Doors. But no matter—it's not really your concern. You think the gods will keep you alive once they're done with you, Hazel. Jump in and I can reunite you with Sammy."

"Shut up!" I yelled.

"Do you know what happened to him after you died in Alaska? He grew up and moved to Texas. He married and had a family. But he never forgot you. He always wondered why you disappeared. He's dead now—a heart attack in the nineteen-sixties. Instead of marrying you, the life you could've had with him haunted him to his death."

"Stop it!" I screamed. _"You_ took that from me!"

"And you can have it again," Gaea said. "All you have to do is jump in."

"That's enough!" Frank draw out an arrow and fired it into the bog. It didn't do much good, but Gaea's face did disappeared when the Arrow flew into the Muskeg.

Still I was haunted by Gaea's words.

"Come on," Frank said sliding his bow back onto his shoulder. "We better get Percy somewhere warm so he can warm up."

"I'm fine," Percy argued.

"No, Frank is right. We'll need you at full strength Percy." I didn't dare look at Frank. He heard everything Gaea said, including about Sammy.

I looked down at the town bellow. Most of the new buildings I didn't recognized, but further along I did see some familiar warehouses along the shore. "Come on, I think I know a place where we can freshen up."


	42. Hazel's POV Part XIV

**A/N** **(I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book.

 **Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

* * *

 **Hazel's POV Part XIV**

When we got into town, I followed the same route I'd used seventy years ago—the last night of my life, when I'd come home from the hills and found my mother missing.

I led my friends along Third Avenue. The railroad station was still there. The big white two-story Seward Hotel was still in business, though it had expanded to twice its old size. We thought about stopping there, but I doubt the Hotel will give rooms to three minors.

Instead, we turned toward the shoreline. I couldn't believe it, but my old home was still there, leaning over the water on barnacle-encrusted piers. The roof sagged. The walls were perforated with holes like buckshot. The door was boarded up, and a hand-painted sign read: ROOMS STORAGE AVAILABLE.

"Come on," I said.

"Uh, you sure it's safe?" Frank asked.

I found an open window and climbed inside. My friends followed. The room hadn't been used in a long time. Our feet kicked up dust that swirled in the buckshot beams of sunlight. Moldering cardboard boxes were stacked along the walls. Their faded labels read: _Greeting Cards, Assorted Seasonal_. Why several hundred boxes of season's greeting cards had wound up crumbling to dust in a warehouse in Alaska, I had no idea, but it felt like a cruel joke: as if the cards were for all the holidays I'd never gotten to celebrate—decades of Christmases, Easters, birthdays, Valentine's Days.

"It's warmer in here, at least," Frank said. "Guess no running water? Maybe one of us should go shopping."

I only heard half of what he said.

I climbed over a stack of boxes in the corner that used to be my sleeping area. An old sign was propped against the wall: GOLD PROSPECTING SUPPLIES. I thought I'd find a bare wall behind it, but when I moved the sign, most of my photos and drawings were still pinned there. The sign must have protected them from sunlight and the elements. They seemed not to have aged. My crayon drawings of New Orleans looked so childish. Had I really made them? My mother stared out at me from one photograph, smiling in front of her business sign: QUEEN MARIE'S GRIS-GRIS—CHARMS SOLD, FORTUNES TOLD.

Next to that was a photo of Sammy at the carnival. He was frozen in time with his crazy grin, his curly black hair, and those beautiful eyes. If Gaea was telling the truth, Sammy had been dead for over forty years. Had he really remembered me all that time? Or had he forgotten the peculiar girl he used to go riding with—the girl who shared one kiss and a birthday cake with him before disappearing forever?

Frank's fingers hovered over the photo. "Is that…?" he looked at me and saw I was crying and clamped back his question. "Sorry, Hazel. His must be really hard. Do you want some time—"

"No," I croaked. "No, it's fine. That's… that's Sammy. The one Gaea was talking about. He was my—uh—friend from New Orleans." I forced myself not to look at Frank.

Percy walked up and studied the picture of Sammy like he was seeing a familiar ghost.

Frank cleared his throat. "Look, we passed a store on the last black. We've got a little money left. Maybe I should go get some food for us, and Percy some clothes. Percy, maybe you can use your thermos as a shower head or something."

"I guess—I never really used it that way though," Percy said.

"Maybe it's best you get wipes instead, Frank," I suggested.

Frank nodded. "Fine then, I'll see about getting a hundred boxes of wipes or something. Be back soon."

Frank headed off as Percy now studied the photo of my mom.

"Is this your mother?" Percy asked. "She looks like you. She's beautiful."

"Yeah," I replied as I placed the sign back over my mementos, "She was."

We made temporary camp and used Percy's sword as a light source. I couldn't help but think about how lucky Percy been since the quest started. When this quest started he had no memory, but now we find out his brother and mother was still alive.

And yet when Percy took out that crumpled up photo he seemed to have a sad look on his eyes. He also would once in a while switch between three beads on his necklace: the pine tree, the trident, and the Empire State Building.

That's when it dawn to me. "Those beads—they don't just represent the years from the other camp, do they?" I asked.

Percy nodded. "Every year at camp Half-Blood the senior counsellors of each cabin at the end of the summer pick a certain event of that summer to be commemorated in the bead. This would have been my tenth year."

"What do they mean?" I asked.

Percy was silent as he looked at the sword. Finally he said: "Thalia's tree."

"What?"

"The first bead. It represents Thalia's tree. That summer Thalia gave her life so Luke Annabeth and I could make it to Camp Half-Blood safely with our satyr guide—The satyrs at Camp Half-Blood are nothing like the Fauns at Camp Jupiter by the way."

I nodded.

"Anyways, instead of dying, Thalia's dad Zeus turned her into a tree that produce a magical barrier that protected camp," Percy said.

My heart sank as I started to realize that Percy might of not been as lucky as we thought.

"The second bead is a centaur in a prom dress, it basically represents the Centaur prom we hosted at camp." Percy smirked. "Needless to say, we never hosted another Centaur prom again."

I giggled at it.

"The third one is a greek treme on fire, a disaster that originally started off as a prank," Percy said. "The fourth one—the one with winged sneakers—was the year Luke went on his first quest of getting the golden apple from the Hespirides tree. It wasn't successful, but he made it back alive, so we honored him with the bead."

"You weren't part of it?" I asked.

Percy shook his head. "Annabeth and I were too young. At least that's what our teacher told us. Anyways, the fifth one represents when the Hunters of Artemis came to visit that summer and defeated us in our annual Hunters-vs-campers game of Capture the Flag. That was before Bianca joined by the way."

I nodded.

"The sixth one actually represents Annabeth's and my first quest—the first one I led actually. That year someone stole Zeus' Master Bolt and your father's Helm of Darkness."

"Seriously?" I responded.

Percy nodded. "We got them back, but barely in time to stop World War III."

"Okay…" I decided not to push it. "What about the others?"

"Well the second one represents the year Annabeth Tyson and I along with a daughter of Ares: Clarisse found the Golden Fleece and returned it to camp in time to save Thalia's tree from a deadly poison," Percy said, "That was also the year Thalia was revived from the tree and the magical border was powered by the Fleece. Months later we found Nico and Bianca and after another dangerous quest, Bianca and Thalia joined the Hunters, but since traditions at Camp Half-Blood."

I nodded.

"THe fourth bead represents the Battle of the Labyrinth—the first official Greek Demigod battle in the Titan War. It also represents the quest Annabeth led in Daedalus Labyrinth in hopes to stop that battle."

"Didn't work out, then?"

"Sadly no. We lost a lot of good campers in that battle. That was the year I inherited Mrs. O'Leary from one of our casualties."

I got a feeling there was more to it, but I didn't press it as it seem that Percy left a lot out. "So the last bead—I'm guessing that represents the Battle of Manhattan?"

Percy nodded. "The Greek letters around the Empire State Building is the name of those who died in that battle."

Percy was silent after that. I couldn't help but look on the tattoo burned on his forearm. I remember how I thought that beads and the mark would of represent ten years, but until now, I never realized I was right—only for two different camps that seem to be worlds apart.

"You're going to make it back to Camp Half-Blood," I said. "You're going to see your girlfriend Annabeth."

"And you and Frank will make it back too," Percy said. "We're in this quest and the prophecy of seven together after all. And I doubt Frank would let anything happen to you."

Speaking of which, the window creaked open as Frank climbed in. Once he was in, he held up some shopping bags triumphantly. "Success!"

He showed off his prizes. From the hunting store, he restocked himself with some arrows for himself, some rations, and a coil of rope.

"Incase the next time one of us forget about the Muskeg, and can't use Percy's thermos," he said.

From a local tourist shop, he had bought each of us a set of fresh clothes, some towels, some soap, and, yes a huge box of wet wipes. Percy took went behind some boxes and started cleaning up leaving me with Frank as I filled Frank in about our conversation about the beads… leaving out private stuff.

"Four completed quests out of five on his belt," Frank said. "I don't think even Dakota has that many completed quest."

"Yeah, but only one of them he led," I stated. But now that I think about it, it was impressive.

Percy came back out holding his thermos freshly washed and dressed like a tourist. "So now what?"

"Now we find a boat to Hubbard Glacier."

I tried to sound confident when I said that, but it wasn't easy. I wished Arion was here to take us to the glacier.

Ever since we'd left Vancouver, I'd been calling to him in my thoughts, hoping he would hear me and come find me, but that was just wishful thinking.

Frank patted his stomach. "If we're going to battle to the death. I want lunch first. I found the perfect place."

…

Frank led us to a shopping plaza near the wharf, where an old railway car had been converted to a diner. I figured it was started after I died since I had no memory of this place, but the food smelled amazing. While Frank and Percy ordered, I wondered down to the docks and asked some questions. When I came back, I needed cheering up. Even the cheeseburger and fries didn't do the trick.

"We're in trouble," I said. "I tried to get a boat. But… I miscalculated."

"No boats?" Frank asked.

"Oh, I can get a boat," I said. "But the glacier is farther than I thought. Even at top speed, we couldn't get there until tomorrow morning, and from what the captains tell me, it's treacherous—icebergs, mazes of channels to navigate. You'd have to know where you're going."

"A plane?" Frank asked.

I shook my head. "I asked the boat captains about that. They said we could try, but it's a tiny airfield. You have to charter a plane two, three weeks in advance."

"Maybe there's something I can do," Percy said. "I have a natural sense of sea navigation."

"Maybe."

We ate in silence after that. My cheeseburger was excellent, but I couldn't concentrate on it. I'd eaten three bites when a raven settle on the telephone pole above and began to croak at them.

I shivered as it reminded me of the Raven that talked to me the night I died. Too this day, I still wonder if the Raven was send by my father. I hoped Nico was still alive, and Gaea had just been lying to make me unsettled. But I had a bad feeling that the goddess was telling the truth.

Nico had told me that he'd search for the Doors of Death from the other side. If he'd been captured by Gaea's forces—I don't even want to think to it.

What about Bianca? Did Gaea capture her too, or is she still safe with the Hunters? Even though I never met her, I hoped she was still with the Hunters, under Diane or Artemis' protection.

I stared at my cheeseburger.

Suddenly, the raven's cawing changed to a strangled yelp

Frank got up so fast that he almost toppled the picnic table. Percy drew his sword.

I followed their eyes. Perched on top of the pole where the raven had been, a fat ugly Gryphon glared down at us. It burped, and raven feathers fluttered from its beak.

I stood and unsheathed my _spatha_.

Frank nocked an arrow. He took aim, but the gryphon shrieked so loudly the sound echoed off the mountains. Frank flinched, and his shot went wide.

"I think that's a call for help," Percy warned. "We have to get out of here."

With no other clear plan, we ran for the docks. The gryphon dove after us. Percy slashed at it with his sword, but the gryphons veered out of reach.

We took the steps to the nearest pier and raced to the end. The gryphon swooped after us, its front claws extended for the kill. I raised my sword, but an icy wall of water slammed sideways into the gryphon and washed it into the bay. The gryphon squawked and flapped its wings. It managed to scrambled onto the pier only to have a trident made out of water strike it in the neck causing it to dissolve.

Frank grunted. "Nice one Percy."

"Yeah—too bad it's not enough, look!"

About a mile away, over the mountains, a whole flock of gryphons swarm like a swirling cloud our way. There was no way we could fight that many.

Frank nocked another arrow. "Not going down without a fight."

Percy raised his sword, "I'm with you."

Then I heard a sound in the distance—like the whinnying of a horse. I must've been imagining it, but I cried out desperately, "Arion! Over here!"

A tan lured came ripping down the street onto the pier. The stallion materialized right behind the Gryphon Percy destroyed as it started to reform only for Arion to bring down his front hooves and smashed the monster to dust once more.

I had never been so happy in my life. "Good horse! _Really_ good horse!"

Frank backed up and almost fell off the pier. "How—?"

"He followed me!" I beamed. "Because he's the best—horse—EVER! Now, get on!"

"Can Arion carry three people?" Frank asked.

Arion whinnied indignantly.

"No need to be rude, bro," Percy argued. "He can handle us. Let's go."

We climbed on, me in front, and Frank and Percy balancing precariously behind me. Frank wrapped his arms around my waist, and I had to control my heart beat.

"Run, Arion!" I cried. "To Hubbard Glacier!"

The horse shot across the water, his hooves turning the top of the sea into steam.


	43. Hazel's POV Part XV

**A/N** **(I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book.

 **Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

* * *

 **Hazel's POV Part XV**

Riding Arion, I felt powerful, unstoppable, absolutely in control—a perfect combination of horse and human. I wondered if this was what it was like to be a centaur.

The boat captains in Seward had warned me it was three hundred nautical miles to the Hubbard Glacier, a hard dangerous journey, but Arion had no trouble. He raced over the water at the speed of sound, heating the air around us so that I didn't even feel the cold. On foot, I never would have felt so brave. On horseback, I couldn't wait to charge into battle.

Frank and Percy didn't look so happy. When I glanced back, their teeth were clenched and their eyeballs were bouncing around in their heads. Frank's cheeks jiggled from the g-force. Percy sat in the back, hanging on tight, desperately trying not to slip off the horse's rear. I hope that didn't happen. The way Arion was moving, I might not notice he was gone for fifty or sixty miles.

We raced through icy straits, past blue fjords and cliffs with waterfalls spilling into the sea. Arion jumped over a breaching humpback whale and kept galloping, startling a pack of seals off an iceberg.

It seemed like only minutes before we zipped into a narrow bay. The water turned the consistency of shaved ice in blue sticky syrup. Arion came to a halt on a frozen turquoise slab.

A half a mile away stood Hubbard Glacier. Even me, who'd seen glaciers before, couldn't quite process what I was looking at. Purple snowcapped mountains marched off in either direction, the clouds floating around their middles like fluffy belts. In a massive valley between two of the largest peaks, a ragged wall of ice rose out of the sea, filling the entire gorge. The glacier was blue and white with streaks of black, so that it looked like a hedge of dirty snow left behind on a sidewalk after a snowplow had gone by, only four million times as large.

As soon as Arion stopped, I felt the temperature dropped. All that ice was sending off waves of cold turning the bat into the world's largest refrigerator. The eeriest thing was a sound like thunder that rolled across the water.

"What _is_ that?" Frank gazed at the clouds above the glacier. "A storm?"

"No," I said. "Ice cracking and shifting. Millions of tons of ice."

"You mean that thing is breaking up?" Frank asked.

As if on cue, a sheet of ice silently calved off the side of the glacier and crashed into the sea, spraying water and frozen shrapnel several stories high. A millisecond later the sound hit them—a _BOOM_ almost as jarring as Arion hitting the sound barrier.

"We can't get close to that thing!" Frank said.

"We have to," Percy said. "The giant is at the top."

Arion snickered.

"Jeez, Hazel," Percy said. "tell your horse to watch his language."

I tried not to laugh. "What did he say?"

"With the cussing removed? He said he can get us to the top."

Frank looked incredulous. "I thought the horse couldn't fly!"

This time Arion whinnied so angrily, even I could guess he was cursing."

"Dude," Percy told the horse, "My mom would have grounded me for a school year just for saying less than that. Hazel, he promises you'll see what he can do as soon as you give the word."

"Um, hold on, then, you guys," I said nervously. "Arion, giddyup!"

Arion shot toward the glacier like a runaway rocket, barreling straight across the slush like he wanted to play chicken with the mountain of ice.

The air grew colder. The crackling of the ice grew louder. As Arion closed the distance, the glacier loomed so large, I got vertigo just trying to take it all in. The side was riddled with crevices and caves, spiked with jagged ridges like ax blades. Pieces were constantly crumbling off—some no larger than snowballs, some the size of houses.

When we were about fifty yards from the base, a thunderclap rattled my bones, and a curtain of ice that would have covered Camp Jupiter calved away and fell toward us.

"Look out!" Frank yelled, which seemed unnecessary to me.

Arion was way ahead of him. In a burst of speed, he zigzagged through the debris, leaping over chunks of ice and clambering up the face of the clambering up the face of the glaciers.

Percy and Frank held on desperately as I wrapped my arms around Arion's neck. Somehow, we managed not to fall off as Arion scaled the cliffs, jumping from foothold to foothold with impossible speed and agility. It was like falling down a mountain in reverse.

Then it was over. Arion stood proudly at the top of a ridge of ice that loomed over the void. The sea was now three hundred feet below us.

Arion whinnied a challenge that echoed off the mountains. Percy didn't translate, but I was pretty sure Arion was calling out to any other horses that might be in the bay: _Beat that, ya punks!_

Then he turned and ran inland across the top of the glacier, leaping a chasm fifty feet across.

"There!" Percy pointed.

The horse stopped. Ahead of us stood a frozen Roman camp like a giant-size ghastly replica of Camp Jupiter. The trenches bristled with ice spikes. The snow-brick ramparts glared blinding white. Hanging from the guard towers, banners of frozen blue cloth shimmered in the artic sun.

There was no sign of life. The gates stood wide open. No sentries walked the walls. Still, I had an uneasy feeling in my gut. I remembered the cave in Resurrection Bay where I'd worked to raised Alcyoneus—the oppressive sense of malice and the constant _boom_ , _boom_ , _boom_ , like Gaea's heartbeat. This place felt similar, as if the earth were trying to wake up and consume everything—as if the mountains on either side wanted to crush us and the entire glacier to pieces.

Arion trotted skittishly.

"Frank," Percy said, "how about we go on foot from here?"

Frank sighed with relief. "Thought you'd never ask."

They dismounted and took some tentative steps. The ice seemed stable, covered with a fine carpet of snow so that it wasn't too slippery.

I urged Hazel forward. Percy and Frank walked on either side, sword and bow ready. We approached the gates without being challenged. I was trained to spot pits, snares, trip lines, and all sorts of other traps Roman legions had faced for eons in enemy territory, but I saw nothing—just the yawning icy gates and the frozen banners crackling in the wind.

I could see straight down the Via Praetoria. At the crossroads, in front of the snow-brick _principia_ , a tall, dark-robed figure stood, bound in chains.

"Thantos," I murmured as I felt my soul being pulled forward, drawn to Death like dust toward a vacuum. My vision went dark. I almost fell off Arion, but Frank caught me and propped me up.

"We've got you," he promised. "Nobody's taking you away."

I gripped Frank's hand. I didn't want to let go. I was so _solid_ , so reassuring, but Frank couldn't protect me from Death. His own life was as fragile as a half-burned piece of wood.

"I'm alright," I lied.

Percy looked around uneasily. "No defenders? No giant? This has to be a trap."

"Obviously," Frank said. "But I don't think we have a choice. At least we have our plan right?"

"Right."

Before I could change my mind, I urged Arion through the gates. The layout was so familiar—cohort barracks, baths, armory. It was an exact replica of Camp Jupiter, except three times as big. Even on horseback, I felt tiny and insignificant, as if we were moving through a model city constructed by the gods.

We stopped ten feet from the robed figure.

Now that I was here, I felt a reckless urge to finish the quest. I knew I was in more danger than when I'd been fighting the Amazons, or fending off the gryphons, or climbing a glacier on Arion's back. Instinctively I knew Thantos could simply touch me, and I would die again.

But I also had a feeling that if I _didn't_ see the quest through, if I didn't face my fate bravely, I would die in cowardice and failure. The judges of the dead wouldn't be lenient on me the second time.

Arion cantered back and forth, sensing my disquiet.

"Hello?" I forced out the word. "Mr. Death?"

The hooded figure raised his head.

Instantly, the whole camp stirred to life. Figures in Roman armor emerged from the barracks, the _principia_ , the armory, and the canteen, but they weren't human. They were shades—the chattering ghosts I had lived with for decades in the Fields of Asphodel. Their bodies weren't much more than wisps of black vapor, but they managed to hold together sets of scale armor, greaves, and helmets. Frost-covered swords were strapped to their waists. _Pila_ and dented shields floated in their smoky hands. The plumes on the centurions' helmets were frozen and ragged. Most of the shades were on foot, but two soldiers burst out of the stables in a golden chariot pulled by ghostly black steeds.

When Arion saw the horses, he stamped the ground in outrage.

Frank gripped his bow. "Yep, _here's_ the trap."

"Good thing we brought our armor," Percy said straightening his breast plate.

"Yeah, I guess," I agreed.


	44. Hazel's POV Part XVI

**A/N** **(I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book.

 **Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

* * *

 **Hazel's POV Part XVI**

The ghosts formed ranks and encircled the crossroads. There were about a hundred in all—not an entire legion, but more than a cohort. Some carried the tattered lightning bolt banners of the Twelfth Legion, Fifth Cohort—Michael Varus doomed expedition from the 1980s. Others carried standard insignia I didn't recognized, as if they'd died at different times on different quests—maybe not even from Camp Jupiter.

Most were armed with Imperial gold weapons—more Imperial gold than the entire Twelfth Legion possessed. I could feel the combined power of all that gold humming around me, even scarier than the crackling of the glacier. I wondered if I could use my power to control the weapons, maybe disarm the ghosts, but I was afraid to try. Imperial gold wasn't just a precious metal. It was deadly to demigods and monsters. Trying to control that much at once would be like trying to control plutonium in a reactor. If I failed, I might wipe Hubbard Glacier off the map and kill my friends.

"Thantos!" I turned to the robed figure. "We're here to rescue you. If you control these shades, tell them—"

My voice faltered. The god's hood fell away and his robe dropped off as he spread his wings, leaving him in only sleeveless black tunic belt at the waist. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen.

His skin was the color of teakwood, dark and glistening like Queen Marie's old séance table. His eyes were as honey gold as mine. He was lean and muscular, with a regal face and black hair flowing down his shoulders. His wings glimmered in shades of blue, black, and purple.

I had to remind myself to breathe.

 _Beautiful_ was the right word for Thantos—not handsome, not hot, or anything like that. He was beautiful the way an angel is beautiful—timeless, perfect, remote.

"Oh," I said in a small voice.

The god's wrist were shackled in icy manacles, with chains that ran straight into the glacier floor. His feet were bare, shackled around the ankles and also chained.

"It's Cupid," Frank said.

Percy coughed as if he was trying to find a way to respond without insulting the god of death.

"You compliment me," Thantos said. His voice as gorgeous as he was—deep and melodious. "I am frequently mistaken for the god of love. Death has more in common with Love than you might imagine. But I am Death. I assure you."

I didn't doubt it. I felt as if I were made of ashes. Any second, I might crumbled and be sucked into the vacuum. She doubted Thantos even needed to touch me to kill me. He could simply tell me to die. I would keel over on the spot, my soul obeying that beautiful voice and those kind eyes.

"We're—we're here to save you," I managed. "Where's Alcyoneus?"

"Save me…?" Thantos narrowed his eyes. "Do you understand what you're saying, Hazel Levesque? Do you understand what will happen if I'm given the orders?"

Percy stepped forward. "We're wasting time."

He swung his sword at the god's chains. Celestial bronze rang against the ice, but Riptide stuck to the chain like glue. Frost began creeping up the blade. Percy pulled frantically. Frank ran to help. Together, they just manage to yank Riptide free before the frost reached their hands.

"That won't work," Thantos said simply. "As for the giant, he is close. These shades are not mine. They are his."

Thantos' eyes scanned the ghost soldiers. They shifted uncomfortably, as if an arctic wind were rattling through their ranks.

"How do we get you out?" I demanded.

"Are you sure you want to know?" Thantos asked.

"I didn't come back from the Underworld and travel thousands of miles for nothing. I'll fight this whole army if I have to. Just tell us how to break your chains."

Thantos studied my heartbeat. "Interesting daughter of my master: Pluto. You do understand that these shades were once demigods like you. They fought for Rome. They died without completing their heroic quests. Like you, they were sent to Asphodel. Now Gaea has promised them a second life if they fight for her today. Of course, if you release me and defeat them, they will have to return to the Underworld where they belong. For treason against the gods, they will face eternal punishment. They are not so different from you, Hazel Levesque. Are you sure you want to release me and punish these souls forever?"

Frank clenched his fists. "That's not fair! Do you want to be freed or not?"

"Fair…" Death mused. "You'd be amazed how often I hear that word, Frank Zhang, and how meaningless it is. Is it fair your life will burn so short and bright? Was it fair when I guided your mother to the Underworld?"

Frank staggered like he'd been punch.

"No," Death said sadly. "Not fair. And yet it was her time. There is no fairness in Death. Your friend Percy there understands that."

Percy kept a cool composure but I noticed a look a tint of sadness in his eyes.

"Yes, Percy. That's right. I was there when Thalia was turned into a tree and there when Luke sacrificed himself to stop the Titan Lord," Death said. "You covered up the pain by accepting Luke's Death, but I know it's because of it you keep your Achilles Curse. Because although your reasons for gaining it was different from his, it's one of the few connections you had left of the boy who helped risk so much to bring you home when you were seven, and you're willing to use it to make sure no else died like he did."

"Percy, what is he talking about?" Frank asked.

Percy didn't answer, but I had a good feeling. Luke—the sandy hair guy from the photo—had the Achilles curse too, but something happened where Luke died.

"Understand this, heroes, if you free me, I will do my duty. But of course these shades will try to stop you."

"I can handle the shades," Percy said. "But we still need to know how to break those chains?"

Thantos smiled. "Only the fire of life can melt the chains of death."

Frank drew a shaky breath. "You're referring to my life line."

Death nodded.

"Frank, no," I said weakly. "There's got to be another way."

Laughter boomed across the glacier. A rumbling voice said: "My friends. I've waited so long!"

Standing at the gates of the camp was Alcyoneus. He was even larger than the giant Polybotes we'd seen in California. He had metallic golden skin, armor made from platinum links, and an iron staff the size of a totem pole. His rust-red dragon legs pounded against the ice as he entered the camp. Precious stones glinted in his red braided hair.

I had never seen him fully formed, but I knew him better than I knew my own parents. I had _made_ him. For months, I had raised god and gems from the earth to recreate this monster. I knew the diamonds he used or a heart. I knew the oil that ran in his veins instead of blood (which my friends know too from our talk on the plane). More than anything, I wanted to destroy him.

The giant approached, grinning at me with his solid silver teeth.

"Ah, Hazel Levesque," he said, "you cost me dearly! If not for you, I would have risen decades ago, and this world would already be Gaea's and Kronos wouldn't have to let Gaea down a second time. But no matter!"

He spread his hands, showing of the ranks of ghostly soldiers. "Welcome, Percy Jackson! Welcome, Frank Zhang! I am Alcyoneus, the bane of Pluto, the _new_ master of Death. And this is your new legion."

* * *

 **A/N:** Hazel's Last POV chapter is done, which means eight more chapters to go and Frank and Percy left to go.


	45. Frank's POV Part XIII

**A/N** **(I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book.

 **Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

* * *

 **Frank's POV Part XIII**

No fairness in Death. Those words kept ringing in my head.

The golden giant didn't scare me. The army of shades didn't scare me. But the thought of freeing Thantos made me want to curl into the fetal position. This god had taken a guy had taken my mother.

I understood what I had to do to break those chains. Mars had warned me. He explained why he loved my mother so much: _She always put her duty first, ahead of everything. Even her life._

Now it was my turn.

My mother's sacrifice medal felt warm in my pocket. I finally understood my mother's choice, saving her comrades at the cost of her own life. I got what Mars had been trying to tell me— _Duty. Sacrifice. They mean something._

My chest felt like a hard knot with anger and resentment—a lump of grief I'd been carrying since the funeral—finally began to dissolve. I understood why my mother never came home. Even if I live today, I finally understand that somethings are worth dying for.

"Hazel." I tried to keep my voice steady. "That package you're keeping or me? I need it."

Hazel glanced at me in dismay. Sitting on Arion, she looked like a queen, powerful and beautiful, her brown hair swept over her shoulders and a wreath of icy mist around her head. "Frank, no. There has to be another way."

"Please. I—I know what I'm doing."

Thantos smiled and lifted his manacled wrists. "You're right, Frank Zhang. Sacrifices must be made."

Great. If Death approved of my plan, I was pretty sure I wasn't going to like the results.

The giant Alcyoneus stepped forward, his reptilian feet shaking the ground. "What package do you speak of, Frank Zhang? Have you brought me a present?"

"Nothing or you, Golden Boy," I responded. "Except a whole lot of pain."

The giant roared with laughter. "Spoken like a child of Mars! Too bad I have to kill you. And _this_ one… my, my, I've been waiting to meet the famous Percy Jackson."

The giant grinned. His silver teeth made his mouth look like a car grille.

"I've followed your progress, son of Neptune," said Alcyoneus. "Your fight with Kronos? Well done. Gaea hates you above all others… except perhaps for that upstart Jason Grace. I'm sorry I can't kill you right away, but my brother Polybotes wishes to keep you as a pet. He thinks it will be amusing when he destroys Neptune to have the god's favorite son on a leash. After that, of course, Gaea has plans for you."

"Yeah, flattering." Percy raised Riptide. "But actually. I'm the son of Poseidon. I'm from Camp Half-Blood. And I'm here to protect the Camp Jupiter for my brother Jason and to pay back for their hospitality when I arrived with no memory."

The ghost stirred. Some drew swords and lifted shields. Alcyoneus raised his hand gesturing for them to wait as he laughed.

"A Greek demigod Son of Neptune calling a Roman demigod son of Jupiter his brother, hilarious. Greek, Roman, it doesn't matter," the giant said easily. "We will crush both camps underfoot. You see, the Titans didn't think _big_ enough. They planned to destroy the gods in their new home of America. We giants know better! To kill a weed, you must pull up the roots. Even now, while my forces destroy your little Roman camp, my brother Porphyrion is preparing for the real battle in ancient lands! We will destroy the gods at their source."

The ghost pounded their swords against their shields. The sound echoed across the mountains.

"The source?" I asked. "You mean Greece?"

Alcyoneus chuckled. "Not need to worry about that, son of Mars. You won't live long enough to see our ultimate victory. I will replace Pluto as lord of the Underworld. I already have Death in my custody. With Hazel Levesque in my service, I will have all the riches under the earth as well!"

Hazel gripped her _spatha_. "I don't do _service_."

"Oh, but you gave me life!" Alcyoneus said. "True, we hoped to awaken Gaea during World War II. That would've been glorious. But really, the world is in almost as bad shape now. Soon, your civilization will be wiped out. The Doors of Death will stand open. Those who serve nus will never perish. Alive or dead, you three _will_ join my army."

"Fat chance, Golden Boy," Percy responded. "You're going down."

"Wait," Hazel spurred her horse toward the giant. "I raised this monster from the earth. I'm the daughter of Pluto. It's my place to kill him."

"Ah, little Hazel," Alcyoneus planted his staff on the ice. His hair glittered with millions of dollars' worth of gems. "Are you sure you will not join us on your own free will? You could be quite… _precious_ to us. Why die again?"

Hazel's eyes flashed with anger. She looked down at me and pulled the wrapped-up piece of firewood from her coat.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" She asked

"Yeah," I said. "Destiny or not, it's my duty."

She pursed her lips. "You're my best friend, Frank. I should have told you that." She tossed me the stick. "Do what you have to. And Percy… can you protect him?"

Percy gazed at the ranks of ghostly Romans. "Against a small army? Sure, no problem. In fact, I got the perfect move for it."

I had no clue what Percy meant by it, but I trust his word.

"Then I've got Golden Boy," Hazel said.

She charged the giant.


	46. Frank's POV Part XIV

**A/N** **(I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book.

 **Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

* * *

 **Frank's POV Part XIV**

I unwrapped my firewood and knelt at the feet of Thantos.

I was aware of Percy standing over me, swinging his sword and yelling in defiance as the ghost closed in. I heard the giant bellow and Arion whinny angrily, but I didn't dare look.

My hands were trembling, I held my piece of tinder next to the chain on the Death's right leg. I thought about flames, and instantly the wood blazed.

Horrible warmth spread through my body. The icy metal began to melt, the flame was so bright it was more blinding than the ice.

"Good," Thantos said. "Very good, Frank Zhang."

I had heard about people's lives flashing before their eyes, but now I experience it literally. I saw my mother the day she left for Afghanistan. She smiled and hugged me. I tried to breath in her jasmine scent so I'd never forget it.

 _I will always be proud of you, Frank,_ she said. _Someday, you'll travel even farther than I. You'll bring our family full circle. Years from now, our descendants will be telling stories about the hero Frank Zhang, their great-, great-, great-—_ She poke my belly for old times' sake. It would be the last time I smiled or months.

I remember Tyson hugging me to death calling me brother and hugging me to death—almost literally. Percy tried to argue that I was technically Tyson's distant nephew, but Tyson gave Percy the saddest look that even I silently submitted to agreeing to let him call me his brother.

I saw himself at the picnic bench in Moose pass, watching the northern lights and listening to Percy name all the constellations as Hazel snored softly beside me. I remember the last thing Percy said before I fell asleep: _And Frank, you_ are _a leader._

I saw Percy disappeared into the muskeg and was about to help Hazel save him when Percy rocketed out of the muskeg using his thermos.

With a clang, the first chain broke. Quickly, I stabbed the firewood at the chain on Death's other leg.

I risked a glance over my shoulder.

To my amazement and surprise, Percy had summoned a miniature hurricane o water and ice vapor around him as he waded through the enemy, knocking Roman ghosts away, deflecting arrows and spears. Two questions came to my mind: was that the power Percy was talking about, and since when did he have _that_ power?"

He moved through enemy lines and even though he seemed to be leaving me undefended, he kept the enemy completely focus on him. Then I saw that protecting me wasn't Percy's only goal—although he was doing so by keeping the enemy away from me. One of the black vapory ghosts was wearing the lion's skin cape of a standard bearer and holding a pole with a golden eagle, icicles frozen to its wings. The legion's standard.

I watched as Percy plowed through a line of legionnaires, scattering their shields with his personal cyclone. He knocked down the standard bearer and grabbed the eagle.

"You want it back?" he shouted at the ghosts. "Come and get it!"

He drew them away, and I couldn't help being awed by his bold strategy. As much as those shades wanted to keep Thantos chained, they were _Roman_ spirits. Their minds were fuzzy at best, like the ghosts I had seen in Asphodel, but they remember one thing clearly: they were supposed to protect their eagle.

Still, Percy couldn't fight off that many enemies forever. Maintaining a storm like that had to be difficult and Percy warned Hazel and me on the plane about the Mark of Achilles also being called the Achilles curse as more he fights the quicker he tires out. Even from here, despite the cold, his face showed slight weary and his face beaded with sweat.

I look for Hazel. I couldn't see her or the giant.

"Watch your fire, boy," Death warned. "Yo don't have any to waste."

I realized quickly what Death meant. I was so distracted; I hadn't noticed the second chain had melted.

I moved my fire to the shackles on the god's right hand. The piece of tinder was almost half gone now. I started to shiver. More images flashed through my mind. I saw Mars sitting at my grandmother's bedside, looking at me with those nuclear explosion eyes: _You're the muscles of the seven._

I heard my mother say: _You can be anything.i_

Then I saw Grandmother's stern face, her skin as thin as rice paper, her white hair spread across her pillow. Yes, Fai Zhang. Your mother was not simply boosting your self-esteem. She was telling you the _literal_ truth.

I thought of the grizzly bear my mother had intercepted at the edge of the woods. I thought about all the stories my mother told me.

The third chain snapped. I thrust the tinder at the last shackle. My body was racked with pain. Yellow splotches dance in my eyes.

I saw Percy at the end of the Via Principalis, holding of the army of ghosts. He'd overturned the chariot and destroyed several buildings, but every time he threw off a wave of attackers in his hurricane, the ghosts simply got up and charge again. Every time Percy slashed one of them down with his sword, the ghost reformed immediately. Percy had backed up almost as far as he could. Behind him was the side gate o the camp, about twenty feet beyond that, the edge of the glacier. Percy was doing a good job keeping his weak point guarded but I knew it can't last forever.

As or Hazel, she and Alcyoneus managed to destroy most of the barracks in their battle. Now they were fighting in the wreckage at the main gate. Arion was playing a dangerous game of tag, charging around the giant while Alcyoneus swiped at them with his staff, knocking over walls and cleaving massive chasms in the ice. Only Arion's speed kept them alive.

Finally, Death's chain snapped. With a desperate yelp, I jabbed my firewood into a pile of snow and extinguished the flame. My pain faded. I was still alive. But when I took out the piece of tinder, it was no more than a stub, smaller than a candy bar.

Thantos raised his arms.

"Free," he said with satisfaction.

"Great." I blinked the spots from his eyes. "Then do something!"

Thantos gave me a calm smile. "Do something? Of course. I will watch. Those who die in this battle will stay dead."

'Thanks," I muttered slipping the firewood into my coat. "Very helpful."

"You're most welcome," Thantos said agreeably. "And if it made any differences, if you had died here after freeing me, you will have rejoined your mother in Elysium."

Somehow that wasn't reassuring, but I took it either way.

"Percy!" I yelled. "They can die now! Time for plan ice break!"

Percy nodded understanding. Plan ice break was a plan we made on the plane. We had hope to use it on Alcyoneus, but right now it looked like Percy need to use it now.

Percy raised his sword and struck the ground with force. The entire glacier shuddered. Ghost fell to their knees. Behind Percy, a wave surged up from the bay—a wall of gray water taller than even the glacier. Water shot from the chasm crevices in the ice. As the wave hit, the back half of the camp crumbled. The entire edge of the glacier peeled away, cascading into the void—carrying buildings, ghosts, and Percy Jackson over the edge.

I pray that Percy would be okay. He said he should be, but I can't be certain.

Suddenly I heard Hazel yelling in pain. I turned to see Arion screamed as the giant got a lucky shot. His staff sent the horse and rider tumbling over the ice, crashing into the ramparts.

Hazel was now half buried in a collapsed pile of snow-bricks. Arion stood over her, trying to protect her, rearing and swatting at the giant with his front hooves.

The giant laughed. "Hello, little pony. You want to play?"

I can't wait for Percy to resurface. Hazel needs help. I can't get there alone, at least not in my human form.

Sometime while watching my life burn away, I felt strangely confident. That I finally understood my powers.

I was too far away to help... but I imagined myself rushing forward, my feet leaving the ground.

 _Be anything_.

I remembered the bald eagles we'd seen on the train ride. My body became smaller and lighter. My arms stretched into wings, and my sight became a thousand times sharper. I soared upward, then dove at the giant with my talons extended, my razor-sharp claws raking across the giant's eyes.

Alcyoneus bellowed in pain. He staggered backward as I landed on the ground.

When I did I imagine myself transform into a giant hellhound like Mrs. O'Leary—or at least a giant massif.

My body grew as fur sprouted everywhere my nose and mouth pushed out into a snout and I dropped on all four. I charged at Alcyoneus and tackled him into the icy watch tower that collapsed on him while I was biting down at one arm and clawing at the other until the giant let go of his staff.

I change back to normal and kicked the staff away.

"Fool, even without a weapon, I'm invincible in my home land, which thanks to Hazel, is now Alaska," Alcyoneus said.

"We'll see about that," I said as I started imagining myself as the bear I remember facing when I was a child. My body grew heavier this time, thicker, rippling with muscles. I was now a full grown grizzly.

I started swiping my claw like a heavyweight fighter swinging a chainsaw. I bashed the giant's face back and forth until his metallic features began to dent.

"Urgg," the giant mumbled in a stupor.


	47. Frank's POV Part XV

**A/N** **(I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book.

 **Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

* * *

 **Frank's POV Part XV**

I changed back to my regular form. My backpack bow and quiver still with me.

I turned to Hazel who was staring me in amazement as she got up. "Frank… what just…how did—?"

"Zhang Family gift," I said as I took out the rope I bought back at Seward and quickly made a noose, and fasten it around the giant's scaly dragon's foot.

"Hazel, here!" I tossed her the other end of the rope. "I've got an idea, but we'll have to—"

"Kill—uh—you—uh…" Alcyoneus muttered.

I ran to the giant's head, picked up the nearest heavy object I could find—a legion shield—and slammed it into the giant's nose, knocking him unconscious.

I looked back at Hazel who just stared at me. "You—you were a bird. Then a Hellhound. Then a bear."

"I'll explain my family gift later," I said. "You think Arion can drag this guy inland?"

"Maybe, but what about Percy!" Hazel said.

I turned to where the remains of other half of the camp was Percy still haven't resurfaced. Thantos glided toward them on his black wings, his expression serene.

"The souls are drowning. I suggest you get going, before you fall though."

I noticed what he meant the cracking seemed worse and grown to where we were.

"What about Percy?" I asked.

"Still alive," Thantos said. "But you'll need to leave now if you hope to destroy him. You know what to do?"

I nodded numbly. "I think so."

"Then our business is complete."

Hazel and I exchange looks.

"You mean I'm free to go?" Hazel asked.

"If you mean I won't claim your life, let's see," Thantos said.

He pulled a pure black iPad from thin air. Death tapped the screen a few times, and all I could think was: Please don't let there be an app for reaping souls.

"I don't see you on my list—it seems you're free to continue the prophecy of seven," Thantos said. "Pluto gives me specific orders for escape souls, you see, but you're no where on my list."

"Urgg," Alcyoneus mumbled. I hit him over the head again.

Death looked up from his iPad. "As for you, Frank Zhang, it isn't your time, either. You've got a little fuel left to burn. But don't think I'm doing either of you a favor. We will meet against under less pleasant circumstances.

The cliff started crumbling again, and didn't stop until there was only twenty feet left. Arion whinnied impatiently. I knew we had to leave, but there was one more question I had to ask.

"What about the Doors of Death?" I said. "Where are they? How do we close them?"

"Ah, yes." A look of irritation flickered across Thantos' face. "The Doors of Me. Closing them would be good, but I fear it is beyond my power. How _you_ would do it, I haven't the faintest idea. I can't tell you exactly where they are. The location isn't… well, it's not entirely a _physical_ place. They must be located through questing. I can tell you to start your search in Rome. The _original_ Rome. You will need a special guide. Only one sort of demigods can read signs that will ultimately lead you to the Doors of Me."

Cracks appeared in the ice under our feet. Hazel patted Arion's neck to keep him from bolting.

"What about my brother?" she asked. "Is Nico alive?"

Thantos gave her a strange look—possibly pity, though that didn't seem like an emotion Death would understand. "You will find the answer in Rome. And now I must fly south to your Camp Jupiter. I have a feeling there will be many souls to reap, very soon. Farewell, demigods, until we meet again."

Thantos dissipated into black smoke.

The cracks widened in the ice under my feet.

"Hurry!" I told Hazel. "We got to take Alcyoneus about ten miles due north!"

I climbed onto the giant's chest and Arion took off, racing across the ice, dragging Alcyoneus like the world's ugliest sled.

…

It was a short trip.

Arion rode the glacier like a highway, zipping across the ice, leaping crevices, and skidding down slopes that would've made a snowboarder's eyes light up.

I didn't have to knock out Alcyoneus too many times, because the giant's head kept bouncing and hitting the ice. As we raced along, the half-conscious Golden Boy mumbled a tune that sounded like "Jingle Bells."

I felt pretty stunned myself. I'd just turned into an eagle, a hellhound—sort of (I'm not sure if I would have any of the powers of a hellhound), and a bear. I could still feel fluid energy rippling through my body, like I was halfway between a solid and liquid state.

Not only that: Hazel and I had released Death, and both of us shad survived. According to Thantos, so did Percy, but because we couldn't waste time, I thought it was best to come back for him.

I visualized the map I'd been studying on the train from Anchorage. I knew roughly where we were going, but there were no signs or markers on top of the glacier. I'd just have to take have to take my best guess.

Finally, Arion zoomed between two mountains into a valley of ice and rocks, and like a massive bowl of frozen milk with bits of Cocoa Puffs. The giant's golden skin paled as if turning to brass. I felt a subtle vibration in my own body, like a tuning fork pressed against my sternum. I knew I'd crossed into friendly territory— _home_ territory.

"Here!" I shouted after a few more yards.

Arion veered to one side. Hazel cut the rope, and Alcyoneus went skidding past. I leaped off just before the giant slammed into a boulder.

Immediately Alcyoneus jumped to his feet. "What? Where? Who?"

His nose was bent in an odd direction. His wounds had healed, though his golden skin had lost some of its luster. He looked around for his iron staff, which was still back at Hubbard Glacier. Then he gave up and pounded the nearest boulder to pieces with his fist.

"You _dare_ take me for a sleigh ride?" He tensed and sniffed the air. "That smell… like snuffed-out souls. Thantos is free, eh? Bah! It doesn't matter. Gaea still controls the Doors of Death. Now, why have you brought me here, son of Mars?"

"To kill you," I said. "Next question?"

The giant's eyes narrowed. "I've never known a child of Mars who can change his form, but that doesn't mean you can defeat me. Do you think your stupid soldier of a father gave you the strength to face me in one-on-one combat?"

Hazel drew her sword. "How about two-on-one?"

The giant growled and charged at Hazel, but Arion nimbly darted out of the way. Hazel slashed her sword across the back of the giant's calf. Black oil spouted from the wound.

Alcyoneus stumbled. "You can't kill me, Thantos or no!"

Hazel made a grabbing gesture with her free hand. An invisible force yanked the giant's jewel encrusted hair backward. Hazel rushed in, slashed his other leg, and raced away before he could regain his balance.

"Stop that!" Alcyoneus shouted. "This is Alaska. I am immortal in my homeland!"

"Actually," I said, "I have some bad news about that. See, I got more from my dad than strength."

The giant snarled. "What are you talking about?"

"Tactics," I said. "That's my gift from Mars. A battle can be won before it's ever fought by choosing the right ground, and we came up with a plan just we were able to do what we just did." I pointed over my shoulder. "We crossed the border a few hundred yards back. You're not in Alaska anymore. Can't you feel it, Al? You want to get to Alaska, you have to go through me."

Slowly, understanding dawned in the giant's eyes. He looked down incredulously at his wounded legs. Oil still poured from his calves, turning the ice black.

"Impossible!" The giant bellowed. "I'll—I'll—Gah!"

He charged at me, determined to reach the international boundary.

It was time for my plan to go into action. I remembered my grandmother's advice:

 _It helps if you know the creature well._ Check.

 _It also helps if you are in a life-and-death situation, such as combat._ Double check.

The giant kept coming. Twenty yards. Ten yards.

"Frank," Hazel called nervously.

I stood my ground. "I got this."

Just before Alcyoneus smashed into me, I changed. I'd always felt too big and clumsy. Now I used that feeling. My body swelled to massive size. My skin thickened. My arms changed to stout front legs. My mouth grew tusk and my nose elongated. I became the animal I knew best—the one I'd cared for, fed, bathed, and given indigestion to at Camp Jupiter.

Alcyoneus slammed into me as a full-grown ten-ton elephant.

The giant staggered sideways. He screamed in frustration again and slammed into me again, but Alcyoneus was completely out of his weight division. I head-butted him so hard Alcyoneus flew backward and landed spread-eagled on the ice.

"You—can't—kill me," Alcyoneus growled. "You can't—"

I turned back to normal form. I walked up to the giant, whose oily wounds were steaming. The gems fell out of his hair and sizzled in the snow. His golden skin began to corrode, breaking into chunks.

"Hazel, if you still want to kill him, he's all yours," I said.

"With pleasure," Hazel said as she dismounted and walked up to me.

"Here's a tip, Alcyoneus. Next time you chose the biggest state for your home, don't set it up base in the part that's only ten miles wide. Welcome to Canada, idiot."

Hazel's sword came down on the giant's neck. Alcyoneus dissolved into a pile of very expensive rocks.

For a while Hazel and I stood together, watching the remains of the giant melt into the ice. I picked up my rope.

"An elephant?" Hazel asked.

I scratched my neck. "Yeah. It seemed like a good idea."

I couldn't read her expression. I was afraid I'd finally done something weird that she'd never want to be around me again.

Then she kissed me—a real kissed on the lips. I felt my heart raced and felt as if I could melt.

"You are amazing," she said. "And you make a very handsome elephant."

Before I could say anything a voice echoed across the valley:

 _You haven't won._

I looked up. Shadows were shifting across the nearest mountain, forming the face of the sleeping Gaea.

 _You will never reach home in time,_ taunted the voice of Gaea, _Even now, Thantos is attending the death of Camp Jupiter, the final destruction of your Roman friends._

The mountain rumbled as if the whole earth were laughing. The shadows disappeared.

Hazel and I looked at each other. Neither of us said a word. We climbed onto Arion and sped back toward Glacier Bay to get Percy.


	48. Frank's POV Part XVI

**A/N** **(I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book.

 **Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

* * *

 **Frank's POV Part XVI**

Percy was waiting for us. He stood at the edge of the glacier, leaning on the staff with the golden eagle, gazing down at the wreckage he'd caused: several hundred acres of newly open water dotted with icebergs and flotsam from the ruined camp.

The only remains on the glacier were the main gates, which listed sideways, and a tattered blue banner lying over a pile of snow bricks.

When we ran up to him, Percy said, "Hey," like we were just meeting up for lunch or something. "How did it go?"

Hazel and I explained about the battle we just had with Alcyoneus. Percy seemed impress when Hazel mention how I change into an eagle, a hellhound, a bear, and an elephant.

"So you mastered Periclymenus' gift?" Percy asked.

"Yeah—wait, you knew that was his gift?" I asked.

Percy shrugged. "Only after we visited your grandmother's place to be honest. I think Juno was trying to keep me from revealing your gift too early because before then whenever I tried to remember more about him, it was blocked out."

I wanted to be angry, but I guess I shouldn't be surprise.

"If you guys are done," Hazel said, "we need to go. Camp Jupiter is under attack. They could use that gold eagle."

Percy nodded. "One thing first, though. Hazel, there's about a ton of Imperial gold weapons and armor at the bottom of the bay now, plus a really nice chariot. I'm betting that stuff along with the weapons we stocked up from the Zhang Mansion could come in handy…"

Hazel and I agreed to get the weapon and armor and chariot but it took way too long.

Hazel used her abilities to levitate some items from the bottom of the sea. Percy swam down and brought up more. Even I helped by turning into a seal, which was kind of cool until Percy claimed my breath smelled like fish.

It took all three of us to raise the chariot, but finally we'd managed to haul everything ashore to a black sand beach near the base of the glacier. We couldn't fit everything in the chariot, but we used my rope to strap down most of the gold weapons and the best pieces of armor.

"It looks like Santa's sleigh," I said. "Can Arion even pull that much?"

Arion huffed.

"Hazel," Percy said, "I don't care if Arion is my half-brother, I'm seriously going to wash his mouth with soap. He says, yes, he can pull it, but he needs food."

Hazel picked up an old Roman dagger, a _pugio_. It was bent and dull, so it wouldn't be much good in a fight, but it looked like solid Imperial gold.

"Here you go, Arion," she said. "High-performance fuel."

The horse took the danger in his teeth and chewed it like an apple. I made a silent oath never to put my hand near that horse's mouth.

"I'm not doubting Arion's strength," I said carefully, "but will the chariot hold up? The last one—"

"This one has imperial gold wheels and axle," Percy said. "It should hold."

"If not," Hazel said, "this is going to be a short trip. But we're out of time. Come on!"

Percy and I climbed into the chariot. Hazel swung up onto Arion's back.

"Giddyup!" she yelled.

The horse's sonic boom echoed across the bay. We sped south, avalanches tumbling down the mountains as we passed.

* * *

 **A/N:** Frank's POV's is finished for this story, Leaving Percy with four chapters left all together.


	49. Percy's POV Part XVII

**A/N** **(I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book.

 **Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

* * *

 **Percy's POV Part XVII**

Four hours.

That's how long it took the fastest horse on the planet to get from Alaska to San Francisco Bay, heading straight over the water down the Northwest coast.

Along the way, I prayed to my dad that Tyson, Mrs. O'Leary, and Ella were at a safe distance from the battle.

I also face another realization. If Camp Jupiter is facing a great invasion, what's happening at Camp Half-Blood. Is Annabeth okay? What about the rest of my friends at Camp Half-Blood. I wondered if the Hunters of Artemis came to their help.

It has occurred to me if that was the case and Jason was at Camp Half-Blood then that would mean Thalia finally had her reunion with her lost brother.

Something I had hope to be there to see and meet Jason personally, but because of Hera and Juno, I wasn't able too, and lost eight months of my life.

There was something else too—something even worse than the two camps being invaded. According to Alcyoneus, the _real_ war would happen far away, in the homeland of the gods. The giants intended to attack the _original_ Mount Olympus and destroy the gods forever.

I knew better than anyone that the gods couldn't die unless demigods and gods ought them together. I remember reading it in the book Hal gave me years ago. Annabeth also mention it too, back in August, when she speculated that the giants might be part of the new Prophecy of Seven.

I understand Juno's plan: Unite the Roman and Greek demigods to create an elite team of heroes—the greatest heroes of our generation, possibly of all time—meantime Hera or Juno would try to convince the gods to fight alongside us. But first, we had to save Camp Jupiter.

The coast line began to look familiar. We raced past the Mendocino Lighthouse. Shortly afterward, Mount Tam and the Marin headlands loomed out of the fog. Arion shot straight under the Golden Gate Bridge into San Francisco Bay.

We tore through Berkeley and into the Oakland Hills. When we reached the hilltop above the Caldecott Tunnel, Arion shuddered like a broken a car and came to a stop, his chest heaving.

Hazel patted his sides lovingly. "You did great, Arion."

The horse was too tired even to cuss: _Of course I did great. What did you expect?_

Frank and I jumped off the chariot. I wished there'd been comfortable seats or an in-flight meal. My legs were wobbly. My joints were so stiff I could barely walk. If I went into battle like this, the enemy would call me Old Man Jackson.

Frank didn't look much better. He hobbled to the top of the hill and peered down at the camp. "Guys… you need to see this."

When Hazel and I joined him, my heart sank. The battle had begun, and it wasn't going well. The Twelfth Legion was arrayed on the Field of Mars, trying to protect the city. Scorpions fired into the ranks of the Earthborn. Hannibal the elephant plowed down the monsters right and left, but the defenders were badly outnumbered.

On her pegasus Scipio, Reyna flew around the giant Polybotes, trying to keep him occupied while trying to lead him to Terminus (as we discussed the last time I talked to her in person) without him noticing but Polybotes was making it difficult for her. The Lares had formed shimmering purple lines against a mob of black, vaporous shades in ancient armor. Veteran demigods rom the city had joined the battle, and were pushing their shield wall against an onslaught of wild centaurs. Giant eagles circled the battlefield, doing aerial combat with the gorgon sisters—Stheno and Euryale.

The legion itself was taking the brunt of the attack, but their formation was breaking. Each cohort was an island in a sea of enemies. The Cyclopes had a siege tower that shot glowing green cannonballs into the city, blasting craters in the forums, reducing houses to ruins. As I watched, a cannonball hit the Senate House and the dome partially collapsed.

"We're too late," Hazel said.

"No," I said, "They're still fighting. We can do this."

"Where's Lupa?" Frank asked, desperation creeping into his voice. "She and the wolves… they should be here."

I thought about my time with the wolf goddess. I'd come to respect her teachings, but I also learned that wolves had limits. They weren't front-line fighters. They only attack when they had vastly superior numbers, and usually under the cover of darkness. Besides, Lupa's first rule was self-sufficiency. She would help her children as much as she could, train them to fight—but in the end, they were either predator or prey. Romans had to fight for themselves. They had to prove their worth or die. That was Lupa's way.

"She did what she could," I said. "She slowed down the army on its way south. Now it's up to us. We've got to get the gold eat and these weapons along with the weapons Tyson has to the legion."

I took out my dog whistle and Hazel and Frank nodded.

I took a deep breath and blew into the dog whistle as hard as I could

Shadows rippled in the trees and Mrs. O'Leary melted out of it carrying the weapons we stocked at the Zhang Mansion with Tyson and Ella on her back.

"Brothers!" Tyson climbed off and ran toward me and Frank. I braced myself, but it was no good. Tyson slammed into both of us and manage to give both of us a smothering hug. For a few seconds, I could only see black spots and a lot of Flannel, and I doubt Frank was doing much better. Then Tyson let go of both of us and laughed with delight.

"You're not dead?" He asked.

"Not one bit," I said.

"And the giant at Alaska?"

"Dead!" Hazel said.

Tyson clapped with joy.

Ella fluttered to the ground and began preening her feathers. "Large dog and Tyson protected Ella, kept Ella hidden when the enemy attacked."

Was it me, or is Ella blushing? Not only that, but Tyson was blushing too.

Before I could decide, Mrs. O'Leary pounced on me, knocking me to the ground and barking so loudly that even Arion backed up. She gave me her usual welcome lick which seemed to have a lot more slobber than before. I guess that's what I get for not stepping out of the garage at the Zhang mansion so that Mrs. O'Leary could greet me properly.

"Hey, Mrs. O'Leary," I said. "Yeah, I love you too, girl. Good dog."

"Uh guys, there's a battle going on," Frank said.

"Right," I agreed. "Tyson, where's Annabeth? Is any other help coming?"

Tyson pouted. His big brown eye got misty. "The big ship is not ready. Leo says tomorrow, maybe two days. Then they will come. But Annabeth did send someone to help us."

"Who?" I asked.

 _Who else, boss?_ I heard a familiar voice said.

I turned and looked up in the sky and saw a black silhouette descending in the sky. At first sight, you would think it was a bird, but as it got closer it revealed itself to be a black winged horse—a pegasus, and a good friend of mine.

"Blackjack!" I yelled as he cantered into the ground.

 _Hey boss, do you have any donuts?_ Blackjack asked.

"Sorry, Blackjack, but if we survive this battle, I'll make sure you get a dozen donuts," I said.

"Percy, you have a Pegasus?" Hazel asked.

"It's a long complicated story," I responded. "Okay, guys. Listen up. I have an idea how we're going to fight.

I pointed out the good guys in the battle field as fast as I could to Tyson. Tyson was alarmed to learn that rogue Cyclopes and Rogue centaurs were in the giant's army.

"Bad like Polyphemus and the Cyclopes in Brooklyn?" Tyson asked.

"Exactly, Bad like Polyphemus and the Cyclopes in Brooklyn," I said. "If you can scare the Centaurs out of camp that would be just as good.

Tyson seemed glad to hear that.

"We'll go to the closest group first and assist them attack plan Macedonia," I said. "Since it's a Greek fighting style, the enemy won't expect it, which could run in our favor. Then once we gain the help of that Cohort, we go to the next one and the next one, assisting each one until we regain the whole Roman ranks. Hazel you can take Arion. Frank and I will cover the air assault. Tyson you can take Mrs. O'Leary along with the chariot. Ella, you can go with Tyson if you want to or hide."

"Friend's attack plan good. Ella go with Tyson," Ella said.

"Percy, it's a great plan and all," Frank said. "But if the legion mistakes Tyson for an enemy—"

"I've got it!" Hazel ran to the chariot and dug out the biggest Roman helmet she could find, plus an old Roman banner. Embroidered with SPQR.

She handed them to Tyson. "Put those on, big guy. Then our friends will know you're on our team."

"Yay!" Tyson said. "I'm on your team.

The helmet was ridiculously small, and he put on the cape backward, like a SPQR baby bib.

"It'll do," I said. "Okay, let's prepare for the biggest battle in our life."


	50. Percy's POV Part XVIII

**A/N** **(I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book.

 **Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

* * *

 **Percy's POV Part XVIII**

We were without a doubt, the strangest reinforcements in Roman military history. But that could go in our favor.

Hazel rode Arion, who had recovered enough to carry one person at normal speed, though he said a lot of things I would not repeat about his aching hooves all the way down.

Tyson ran down the hill with Mrs. O'Leary—who was harnessed to the chariot full of weapons including the ones Frank inherited. To top that off we tied a second banner we found to Mrs. O'Leary's collar on so the campers knew she was with us. Tyson started waving his club yelling, "Bad pony-men! BOO!" While Ella fluttered around them reciting facts from the _Old Farmer's Almanac_.

Frank transformed into a bald eagle and I climbed onto Blackjack's back and we flew into battle. I carried the golden eagle standard of the Twelfth Legion and Raised it high above me while staying on blackjack

The first Cohort we made it too was the Fifth, who were trying to keep their shields locked just to stay live.

Seeing them in trouble, I felt a surge of protective rage. These were the kids who'd taken me in. This was _my_ family.

I shouted, "Fifth Cohort!" as Blackjack soared down and tackled the nearest Cyclops. The last things the poor monster saw was my sword hitting his eye, destroying him instantly.

After the Cyclops disintegrated—and stayed disintegrated, thanks to Death—Mrs. O'Leary bounded forward with the chariot.

Tyson charged at the Cyclops leader Ma Gasket, her chain-mail dress spatted with mud and decorated with broken swears.

She gawked at Tyson and started to say, "Who—?"

Tyson hit her in the head so hard, she spun in a circle and landed on her rump.

"Bad Cyclops Lady!" he bellowed. "General Tyson says GO AWAY!"

He hit her again and Ma Gasket broke into dust.

Meanwhile Hazel charged around on Arion, slicing her _spatha_ through one Cyclops after another, while Frank blinded them with his talons, and Blackjack flew in so I stab them in the eye.

Once every Cyclops within fifty yards had been reduced to ashes, Frank landed in front of his troops and transformed into a human. His centurion's badge and Mural Crown gleamed on his winter jacket.

"Fifth Cohort!" he bellowed. "Get your imperial gold weapons right here! Courtisy of the Alaska Expedition and the Zhang Family!"

The campers recovered from their shock and mobbed the chariot. Hazel helped as best as she could handing out equipment as Blackjack and I soared over head.

"Let's go, let's go!" Dakota urged, grinning like a madman as he swigged red Kool-Aid from his flask. "Our comrades need help!"

Soon the Fifth Cohort was equipped with new weapons and shields helmets. They weren't exactly consistent but they were suddenly the most powerful cohort in the legion.

"Follow the eagle!" Frank ordered pointing at Blackjack and me as I held the eagle high for them to see. "To battle."

At first the campers were amazed that I was riding on a pegasus, but then they cheered.

"You heard him, Blackjack," I said. "Let's go!"

 _Sure thing boss,_ Blackjack responded.

Blackjack turned toward the group of Romans in need and with we few off with the entire cohort of forty extremely shiny gold plated warriors following as they screamed for blood.

We slammed into a herd of wild centaurs that were attacking the Third Cohort. When the campers of the Third saw the eagle standard I was carrying while riding Blackjack, they shouted insanely and fought with renewed effort.

The centaurs didn't stand a chance. The two cohorts crushed them like a vise. Son there was nothing left but piles of dust and assorted hooves and horns for trophies.

"Form ranks!" the centurions shouted. The two cohorts came together, their military training kicking in. Shields locked, they marched into battle against the Earthborn.

Frank shouted, _"Pila!"_

A hundred spears bristled. When Frank yelled, "Fired!" they sailed through the air—a wave of death cutting through the six-armed monsters. The campers drew swords and advanced toward the center of the battle.

At the base of the aqueduct, the First and Second were trying to encircle Polybotes, but they were taking a pounding. The remaining Earthborn threw barrage after barrage of stone and mud. _Karpoi_ grain spirits—those horrible little piranha Cupids—were rushing through the tall grass abducting campers at random, pulling them from the line. The giant himself kept shaking basilisks out of his hair. Everytime one landed. The Romans panicked and ran. Judging from their corroded shields and smoking plumes on their helmets, they already learned about basilisks' poison and fire.

Reyna soared above the giant, diving in with her javelin whenever he turned his attention to the ground troops. Her purple cloak snapped in the wind. Her golden armor gleamed. Polybotes jabbed his trident and swung his weighted net, but Scipio was almost as nimble as Arion and Blackjack

 _Dang boss, that girl is almost as good at pegasus riding as you,_ Blackjack snorted.

"Her name is Reyna," I told him, "Fly in close—within shouting range."

Blackjack didn't argue as he obeyed. Once we were close enough, I yelled, "Need help!"

Reyna turned and to her surprise saw me riding on Blackjack, holding my sword in one hand and the Eagle standard in the other.

I gave her a look that basically said: _You got your pegasus, and as it turns out—I have mine._

At that moment She also noticed the Fifth Cohort marching to her aid right behind me.

"Percy… what—"

"Look out!" I yelled.

The giant tried to swat her out of the air, but Scipio dodged. Reyna must have decided to question about Blackjack later because she yelled: "Romans! Rally to the eagle!"

Demigods and monsters a liked turned and gawked at me as Blackjack soared overhead.

"What is this?" Polybotes demanded. _"What is this?"_

I felt a rush of power coursing through the standard staff. I guess now was better than never to find out what this thing can do.

I raised the eagle and shouted, "Twelfth Legion Fullminata!"

Thunder shook the valley. The eagle let loose a blinding flash and a thousand tendrils of lighting exploded from its wings—arching in front of Blackjack and me like the branches of an enormous deadly tree, connecting with the nearest monsters leaping to one to another completely ignoring the Roman forces and Tyson and Mrs. O'Leary.

When the lightning stopped, the First and Second Cohorts were facing one surprised-looking giant and several hundred smoking piles of ash. The enemy's center line had been charred to oblivion.

The look on Octavian's face was priceless. The centurion stared at me with shock and outrage. Then, when his own troops started to cheer, he had no choice except to join the shouting: "Rome! Rome!"

The giant Polybotes backed up uncertainly, but I knew the battle wasn't over.

The Fourth Cohort was still surrounded by Cyclopes. Even Hannibal the elephant was having a hard time wading through so many monsters. His black Kevlar armor was ripped so that his label just said ant.

The veterans and Lares on the eastern flank were being pushed toward the city. The monsters' siege tower was still hurling explosive green fireballs—which I realized was actually Greek Fire—into the streets. The gorgons had disabled the giant eagles and now flew unchallenged over the giant's remaining centaurs and Earthborn, trying to rally them.

"Stand your ground!" Stheno yelled. "I've got free samples!"

Polybotes bellowed. A dozen fresh basilisk fell out of his hair, turning the grass to poisoned yellow. "You think this changes anything, Percy Jackson? I cannot be destroyed! Come forward, son of Neptune. I will break you!"

"Blackjack, land next to Dakota," I said pointing at the son of Bacchus.

 _Are you crazy?_

"Just do it!"

Blackjack did as he was told and landed next to Dakota. Dakota was shock as I handed over the eagle. "At one time, your dad help defended an attack on Olympus against the Giant army. Now it's your turn to do the same for Camp Jupiter and New Rome. Take this and make Rome and your dad proud."

Dakota blinked, then he straightened with pride. He dropped his Kool-Aid flask and took the eagle. "I will carry it with honor."

"Frank, Hazel, Tyson," I said. "Help the Fourth Cohort. I've got a giant to kill."

I raised Riptide, but before I could give Blackjack the command, horns blew in the northern hills. Another army appeared on the ridge—hundreds of warriors in black-and-camouflage, armed with spears and shields. Interspersed among their rank were a dozen battle forklifts, their sharpened tines gleaming in the sunset and flaming bolts nocked in their crossbows.

"Amazons," Frank said. "Great."

Polybotes laughed. "You see? Our reinforcements have arrived! Rome will fall today!"

The Amazons lowered their spears and charged down the hill. Their forklifts barreled into battle. The giant's army cheered—until the Amazon changed course and headed straight for the monsters' intact eastern flank.

"Amazons, forward!" On the largest forklift stood Hylla in black combat armor with a glittering gold belt around her waist.

"Queen Hylla," said Hazel. "She survived!"

The Amazon queen shouted: "To my sister's aid! Destroy the monsters!"

"Destroy!" Her troops cry echoed through the valley.

Reyna wheeled her pegasus toward me. Her eyes gleamed. Her expression said: _I could hug you right now._ She shouted, "Romans! Advance!"

The battlefield descended into absolute chaos. Amazon and Roman lines swung toward the enemy like the Doors of Death themselves.

But I had only one goal.

 _Blackjack, when I give you the signal, go to the closest statue that surrounds the city,_ I thought.

 _Are you sure?_ Blackjack asked, _No offense, boss, but I doubt a statue will help._

 _Trust me, that statue should be plenty against this giant,_ I thought.

…

We met Polybotes by the aqueduct, which had somehow survived the battle so far. Polybotes fixed that. He swiped his trident and smashed the nearest brick arch, unleashing a waterfall.

"Go on, then, son of Neptune!" Polybotes taunted. "Let me see your power! Does water do your bidding? Does it heal you? But I am born to oppose Neptune."

I'm not stupid. I know Polybotes has the power to turn water into poison that can kill even a child of Neptune.

Still, that didn't stop the giant from thrusting his hand under the water. As the torrent passed through his fingers it turned dark green. He flung some at me. I quickly used all my will power to deflect it around Blackjack and me. The liquid splattered the ground in front of us. With a nasty hiss, the grass withered and smoke.

"Fly!" I yelled.

Blackjack shot in the air and narrowly dodge the net Polybotes threw at us.

"You want me! You got to catch me!" I yelled thinking, _Now Blackjack!_

Blackjack circled around and headed to the city as Polybotes yelled: "Get back here so I can break you coward."

I had no intention of doing that, and neither was Blackjack.

…

I said this once before, I'll say it again, it's a good thing Blackjack is one of the best fliers and I'm one of the best pegasus handlers—at least in Camp Half-Blood—otherwise we would be dead.

We passed Mrs. O'Leary, who looked up curiously with a gorgon wriggling in her mouth.

"Good girl! Keep fighting the evil monsters!" I yelled.

 _WOOF!_

Blackjack rose over a burning scorpion and ducked and dodge a Cyclops Hannibal threw across his path. At the corner of my eye, I saw Tyson pounding the Earthborn into the ground like a game of whack-a-mole. Ella was fluttering above him, dodging missiles and calling out advice on where to strike the Earthborn, which Tyson found.

"Percy and flying pony needs help?" Tyson called.

"We're good!"

"Die!" Polybotes yelled trying to close in on us.

In the distance, I saw Hazel and Arion galloping across the battlefield, cutting down centaurs and _karpoi_. One grain spirit yelled, "Wheat! I'll give you wheat!" but Arion stomped him into a pile of breakfast cereal. Queen Hylla and Reyna joined forces, forklift and Pegasus riding together, scattering the dark shades of fallen warriors. Frank turned himself into an elephant and stomped through some Cyclopes, and Dakota held the golden eagle high, blasting lightning at any monsters that dared to challenge the Fifth Cohort.

I glanced back to make sure the giant was following and surely enough, he was, and was almost in arm's reach. No good, I need more time.

I quickly switched to my thermos, held it in one hand while stretching out the other. I summoned a water blast and formed it into a hand as I used it to smash an aqueduct right over Polybotes causing a wave of water and bricks to land on the giant's head.

We were within feet of the City Limits now.

"Drop me off from here Blackjack. Hopefully Terminus will help me from here," I told my pegasus.

Blackjack wasn't happy about it but did as he was told.

Once I was on the ground, I told Blackjack to go help Reyna and Queen Hylla which he really wasn't so happy to obliged.

 _Are you sure, boss? I can help._

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing. Just go help the Praetor and the Amazonian Queen," I said.

Blackjack nodded and soared off back to the battle field.

Once Blackjack was gone I bolted the rest of the way for the city limits.

"Terminus!" I yelled at the nearest statue of the god who was up ahead. His stone eyes snapped open as I ran toward him.

"Completely unacceptable!" he complained. "Buildings on fire! Invaders! Get them out of here, Percy Jackson!"

"I'm trying," I responded. "But there's this giant Polybotes."

"Yes, I know! Wait—Excuse me for a moment." Terminus closed his eyes and concentrated. A Greek fire lit cannonball sailed overhead and suddenly vaporized. "I can't stop _all_ the missiles," Terminus complained. "Why can't they be civilized and attack more slowly? I'm only one god."

"I need your help to kill the giant," I said, "If we do this battle will all be over."

Terminus sniffed. "I guard borders."

"But you're also the god of boundaries, which means you have the power to help end this," I argued. "Only gods and demigods working together can kill Polybotes."

"It's not in my job description."

I sighed in irritation. I don't have time for this.

I took another step forward and the god shrieked indigantly.

"Stop right there, young man! No weapons inside the Pomerian line!"

I smirked as an idea occurred to me. "Hold that thought."

I sprinted back toward the giant. "Hey, ugly!"

"Rarr!" Polybotes burst from the ruins of the aqueduct. Water was still pouring over him, turning into poison and creating a steaming marsh around his feet.

"You… you will die slowly," the giant promised. He picked up his trident, no dripping with green venom.

All around us, the battle was winding down. The last of the monsters were destroyed, and my friends started gathering, forming a ring around the giant.

"I will take you prisoner, Percy Jackson," Polybotes snarled. "I will torture you under the sea. I will turn your invulnerability against you so you will die slowly as the water tries to heal you."

"Great offer," I said. "But I think I'll just kill you instead."

Polybotes bellowed in rage. He shook his head, and more basilisks flew from his hair.

"Get back!" Frank warned.

Fresh chaos spread through the ranks. Hazel spurred Arion and put herself between the basilisks and the campers. Frank changed form—shrinking into something lean and furry—a weasel. He charged the basilisk and to my amazement the deadly snakes freaked out and slither away from Frank as he chased them.

Polybotes pointed the trident and ran toward me. As the giant reached the Pomerian Line, I jumped aside like a bullfighter. Polybotes barreled across the city limts.

"THAT'S IT!" Terminus cried. "That's AGAINST THE RULES!"

Polybotes frowned, obviously confused he was being told off by a statue. "Shut up!"

He pushed the statue over but Terminus wasn't done yet.

"Now I'm MAD!" Terminus shrieked. "I'm strangling you. Feel that? Those are my hands around your neck, you big bully. Get over here! I'm going to head-butt you so hard—"

"Enough!" The giant stepped on the statue and broke Terminus into three pieces—pedestal, body and head.

"You DIDN'T!" shouted Terminus. "Percy Jackson, you've got yourself a deal! Let's kill this upstart."

The giant laughed so hard he didn't realize I was charging until it was too late. I jumped up, vaulting off the giant's knee, and drove Riptide straight through one of the metal mouths on Polybotes' breastplate, sinking the Celestial bronze hilt-deep in his chest. The giant stumbled backward, tripping over Terminus' pedestal and crashing to the ground.

While he was trying to get up, clawing at the sword in his chest, I hefted the head of Terminus, planning to complete Terminus threat to the giant.

"You'll never win!" the giant groaned. "You cannot defeat me alone."

"I'm not alone." I raised the stone head above the giant's face. "You made a big mistake angering my friend Terminus here, Polybotes. Now I'm going to help the god of Boundaries complete his threat to you earlier."

Awareness and fear dawned in the giant's face as I smashed the god's head into the giant's face in a way that if Terminus done it himself it would definitely a headbutt if Terminus was able to do it himself. The giant dissolved, crumbling into a steaming heap of seaweed, reptile skin, and poison muck.

I staggered away, completely exhausted as the side effect of the Curse of Achilles started kicking in on overdrive.

"Ha!" said the head of Terminus. "That will teach _him_ to obey the rules of Rome."

For a moment, the battlefield was silent except few fires burning and a few retreating monsters screaming in panic.

A ragged circle of Romans and Amazons stood around me. Tyson, Ella, Mrs. O'Leary, and Blackjack were there. Frank and Hazel were grinning at me with pride. Arion was nibbling contently on a golden shield.

Then to my amazement the Romans began to chant, "Percy! Percy!"

They mobbed me, and before I knew it, they were raising me on a shield. The cry changed to, "Praetor! Praetor!"

Among the chanters was Reyna herself who held up her hand to congratulate me. I remembered what I told Reyna about how I would only take Praetorship if the Romans raised me by their shields, and since they done that, I guess I better accept it.

I took Reyna's hand and she shook it. "Congratulation, brother."

I looked at Hylla, expecting her to argue against it, expecting her to still had a grudge against me, but instead I found her nodding in approval as if accepting what Reyna just said.

Then the mob of cheering Romans carried me around the Pomerian Line, carefully avoiding Terminus' borders, and escorted me back home to Camp Jupiter.


	51. Percy's POV Part XIX

**A/N** **(I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book.

 **Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

* * *

 **Percy's POV Part XIX**

I had a blast at the Feast of Fortuna.

Campers, Amazons, and Lares crowded the mess hall for a lavish dinner. Even fauns were invited, since they'd helped out by bandaging up the wounded after the battle. Wind nymphs zipped around the room, delivering orders of pizza burgers, steaks, salads, Chinese food, and burritos, all flying at terminal velocity.

At request, one of the wood nymphs even served Blackjack the dozen donuts I promised him. Everyone found it weird at first, but after seeing the black pegasus munch down on a dozen donuts happily, no one argued.

Despite the exhausting battle, everyone was in good spirits. Casualties had been light, and the few campers who'd previously died and come back to life, like Gwen, hadn't taken to the Underworld. Perhaps Pluto was generous enough to turn a blind side.

Other than that, the feast went well. Colorful Amazon and Roman banners hung side-by-side from the rafters. The restored golden eagle stood proudly behind the praetor's table, and the walls were decorated with cornucopias—magical horns of plenty that spilled out recycling waterfalls of fruit, chocolate, and fresh bake cookies.

The Cohorts mingled freely with the Amazons, jumping from couch to couch as they pleased, and for once the soldiers of the Fifth were welcomed everywhere. I changed seats so many times, I lost track of my dinner.

There was a lot of flirting and arm-wrestling—which seemed to be the same thing for Amazons. I quickly realized that despite their reputation with men, Amazons were a little more social able around men than most Hunters—unless you include hunters threatening males and sometimes killing males that intrude their camp, then the Hunters are very social able.

At one point I was cornered by Kinzie, the Amazon who'd had me disarmed back in Seattle. I had to explain that I already had a girlfriend and even show her my old picture to prove she exist. Fortunately, Kinzie took it well but she was surprise to find the Lieutenant of the Hunters of Diane—or Artemis—in the photo.

"You knew Thalia?" She asked.

"Yeah she helped me out when I was little before she joined the Hunters," I explained, "Since then we had a sibling bond."

"Kind of like the bond the Amazons shared," Kinzie said.

I nodded.

Then Kinzie told me what happened after we'd left Seattle—how Hylla had defeated her challenger Otera in two consecutive duels to the death, so that the Amazons now calling their queen Hylla Twice-Kill."

"Otrera stayed dead the second time," Kinzie said, batting her eyes. "We have you to thank for that. If you need a new girlfriend… well, I think you'd look great in an iron collar and an orange jumpsuit."

"Thanks," I responded hoping she was kidding. Then I excused myself to change seats.

Once everyone had eaten and the plates stopped flying, Reyna made a short speech. She formally welcomed the Amazons, thanking them for their help. Then she hugged her sister and everybody applauded.

Reyna raised her hands for quiet. "My sister and I haven't always seen eye to eye—"

Hylla laughed. "That's an understatement."

"She joined the Amazons," Reyna continued. "I joined Camp Jupiter. But looking around this room, I think we both made good choices. Strangely, our destinies were made possible by the hero you all just raised to praetor on the battlefield—our new brother: Percy Jackson."

More cheering the loudest coming from Tyson. The sisters raised their glasses to me and beckoned me forward wanting a big speech.

"Before today, I didn't plan to take praetorship. In fact, after I came here and had a tour of the camp, I just wanted to gain the respect of my fellow campers and to be accepted while I try figure out my past. And yes, I thought of continuing Jason Grace's work on bringing back honor to the Fifth Cohort."

"Which you did!" someone from the Fifth Cohort yelled out earning a loud cheer from the others.

"Uh, right. Anyways, since you guys did raised me to the rank of Praetorship, I'll be happy to obliged, and when our lost friend and brother Jason returns, I planned to welcome him with open arms just as you welcomed me."

All of the campers made a loud cheer in agreement. Well, not all. Octavian was shooting me dirty looks before disguising it quickly with a smile. He ripped open a teddy bear and pronounced good omens for the coming year—Fortuna would bless them.

"Well then, since Percy already gained his first stripe, all is left is to give him the medal and cloak of Praetorship," Reyna said.

She took my legionnaire tablet before giving me an eagle medal and purple cloak, symbols of the praetor. "You earned these, Percy."

Queen Hylla pounded me on the back. "And since you're my brother now, I guess I won't kill you."

"Um, thanks," I responded.

"Also, for his service in defending New Rome and Camp Jupiter, we welcome Percy's brother: Cyclops General Tyson Jackson to camp, as ambassador of the Olympian's Cyclopes army and of his father Neptune."

No one argued against that, since Tyson did save the camp. Reyna handed me a XXXL size sea green robe (my guess is Roman's choice of color for ambassador of Neptune since it look like a sea-green large version of the robes Nico wore during the senate meeting) to Tyson—who was sitting at Dakota's table as honored guest—which I was proud to do.

After the announcements was over I made my way around the mess hall once more, since all the campers wanted me at their table. Vitellius the Lar followed, stumbling over his shimmering purple toga and readjusting his sword, telling everyone how he predicted my rise to greatness.

"I demanded he join the Fifth Cohort!" the ghost said proudly. "Spotted his talent right away!"

Don the Faun popped up in a nurse's hat, a stack of cookies in each hand. "Man, congrats and stuff! Awesome! Hey, do you have any spare change?"

All the attention did embarrassed me a little, but I was happy to see how well Hazel and Frank were being treated. Everyone called them the saviors of Rome, and they deserved it. There was even a rumor going around about reinstating Frank's great-grandfather, Shen Lun, to the legion's roll of honor since he didn't cause the 1906 earthquake.

There's also a rumor going on that some of the cohorts decided to clean up Neptune's shrine to honor him for having the son who defeated the Giant Polybotes, and a new shrine built for a certain goddess of Rainbows since the Romans found a new use of emergency communications during quests. Although I don't know if it's true or not.

I eventually made my way back to Tyson and Ella at Dakota's table. Sometime during my table jumping Tyson had taken off his 'banner-bib, and now was wearing his new ambassador robes which was now covered in peanut butter from all of the peanut butter sandwiches he kept ordering. I still couldn't believe that only just last year Tyson was made Cyclopes General, and now he was ambassador for his brethren under his command and of our dad.

Meanwhile, Ella was perched on his shoulder on top of the couch and nibbled furiously on cinnamon rolls.

"Cinnamon rolls are good for harpies," she said. "June twenty-fourth is a good day. Roy Disney's birthday, and Fortuna's Feast, and Independence Day for Zanzibar. And Tyson."

She glanced at Tyson, then blushed and looked away.

…

After dinner, the entire legion got the night off. My friends and I drifted down to the city—or in Ella's case flying, which wasn't quite recovered from the battle, but the fires were out, most of the debris had been swept up, and the citizens were determined to celebrate.

At the Pomerian Line, the statue of Terminus wore a paper party hat.

"Welcome, praetor!" he said. "You need any giants' face smashed while you're in town, just let me know."

"Thanks Terminus, I'll keep that in mind," I said.

"Yes, good. Your praetor's cape is an inch too low on the left. There—that's better. Where's my assistant? Julia!"

The little girl ran out from behind the pedestal. She was wearing a green dress tonight, and her hair was still in pigtails. When she smiled, I saw that her front teeth were starting to come in. She held up a box full of party hats.

I tried to decline, but Julia gave me the big adoring eyes that I'm a sucker too ever since I met Tyson.

"Ah, sure," I said. "I'll take the blue crown."

She offered Hazel a gold pirate hat. "I'm gonna be Percy Jackson when I grow up," she told Hazel solemnly.

Hazel smiled and ruffled her hair. "That's a good thing to be, Julia."

"Although," Frank said, picking out a hat shape like a polar bear's head, "Frank Zhang would be good too."

"Frank!" Hazel said.

We put on our hats and continued to the forum, which was lit up with multicolored lanterns. The fountains glowed purple. The coffee shops were doing a brisk business, and street musicians filled the air with the sound of guitar, lyre, panpipes, and for some reason armpit noises.

Either the goddess Iris heard about her new shrine or was in a party mood too because there was a dazzling rainbow appeared in the night sky over the damaged Senate House along with a gentle rain of glutten free R.O.F.L. cupcake simulations, which I figured would either make cleaning up harder or rebuilding easier. The cupcakes would make great bricks.

After a while, I got tired of watching Frank and Hazel brushing shoulders and having a look as if they wanted some alone time, and said, "You can go ahead, guys. Go enjoy yourselves."

Frank and Hazel protested, but I told them it was okay.

Once alone, I decided to head back to camp. Along the way, I saw Mrs. O'Leary playing with Hannibal in the Field of Mars. Finally, she'd found a playmate she could roughhouse with. They frolicked around, slamming into each other, breaking fortification, and generally having an excellent time. A part of me wished Daedalus could see this since Mrs. O'Leary originally was his.

I paused at that moment as realization hit me. Up until two years ago Daedalus been alive since ancient Greece, which would of meant that he been around since the rise of the Roman Empire. I wouldn't be surprise if Chiron knew but kept it a secret, but I wonder if Daedalus knew about the Roman Camp. He surely would have been around to see any of the conflicts between the Greeks and Romans.

I shook my head, even if Daedalus knew, it wasn't like I could ask him. I just hope seeing his nephew and son once in a while in the Fields of Punishment is enough reason for him not risking a greater punishment than building a bypass in the Underworld for eternity.

I'll admit I wished Daedalus Luke and all the friend of mine who died during the Titan War had returned from the dead, but not at the cost of them following Gaea or losing them again.

At the fort gates, I stopped and gazed across the valley. It seemed like so long ago that I'd stood here with Hazel, getting my first good view of camp. Now I was more interested in watching the eastern horizon.

Tomorrow, maybe the next day, my friends from Camp Half-Blood would arrive. As much as I cared about Camp Jupiter, I couldn't wait to see Annabeth again. I yearned for my old life—New York and Camp Half-Blood—but something told me it might be a while before I returned home. Gaea and the giants weren't done causing trouble—not by a long shot.

Reyna had given me the second praetor's house on the Via Principalis, but as soon as I looked inside, I knew I couldn't stay there. It was nice, but it was also full of Jason's stuff. I already silently made a plan that when Jason returns, if he wants the praetorship back, I'll be happy to give it back to him, but until then, I don't think it's right to touch his stuff.

I headed back to the Fifth Cohort barracks and climbed into my bunk. I passed out instantly.

I dreamed I was carrying Juno across the Little Tiber as I stood on it.

She was disguised as a crazy old lady, smiling and singing an Ancient reek lullaby as her leathery hands gripped my neck.

"Do you still want to slap me, dear?" she asked.

I stopped midstream. I let go and dumped the goddess in the river.

The moment she hit the water, she vanished and reappeared on the shore. "Oh, my," she cackled, "that wasn't very heroic, even in a dream!"

"Eight months," I said. "You stole eight months of my life for a quest that took a week."

Juno tutted disapprovingly. "You mortals and your short lives. Eight months is noting, my dear. I lost eight centuries once, missed most of the Byzatine Empire."

I was tempted to use the power of the river against her.

"Now, now," Juno said as if sensing my temptation. "Don't get testy. If we are to defeat Gaea, our plans must be timed perfectly. First, I needed Jason and his friends to free me from my prison—"

"You were imprisoned and they let you out?"

"Don't sound so surprised, dear! I'm a sweet old woman. At any rate, you weren't needed at Camp Jupiter until _now_ , to save the Romans at their moment of greatest crisis. The eight months between… well, I do have other plans brewing my boy. Opposing Gaea, working behind Jupiter's back, protecting your friends—it's a full time job! If I had to guard you from Gaea's monsters and schemes as well, and keep you hidden from your friends back east all that time—no, much better you take a safe nap. You would have been a distraction—an unpredictable cannon. In the end, the timing was perfect. They trust you now. You are a hero of Rome. And while you slept, Jason Grace has learned to trust the Greeks. They've had time to build the _Argo II_. Together, you and Jason will unite the camps. Each of the seven has a role, and you Percy: with your inspired loyalty, you are the glue that will unite the seven."

"Is it true?" I asked. "The seven demigods of the prophecy, we're destined to be the greatest demigods of all time like Hal predicted?"

"That's right," Juno said. "And soon you will be united and be able to prove yourselves to my husband that we need demigods. Only by sailing to ancient lands and closing the Doors of Death will you convince Jupiter that you are worthy of fighting side-by-side with the gods. It will be the greatest quest since Aeneas sailed from Troy! If not, Gaea will win. But I must tell you this, Percy Jackson. The one who will cause you the most trouble is the one closest to you—the one who hates me most."

"Annabeth?" I felt my anger building. "Hera never liked her and you don't know a thing about her. If she's part of the prophecy of seven, then she's the person I want most to be watching my back."

The goddess smiled dryly. "We will see, young hero. Jason and his friends has proven themselves as part of the Prophecy of Seven when they freed me, and you and your friends proven themselves by freeing Death and saving the camp. But Annabeth has yet to prove herself. She has a hard task ahead of her when you arrive in Rome. Whether she is up to it and completes it, only then she would prove herself as one of the greatest heroes of all time."

I couldn't take it anymore. I summoned a fist of water and smashed it down at the old lady. When the wave receded, she was gone. The river started swirling out of my control and I sank into the darkness of the whirlpool.


	52. Percy's POV Part XX

**A/N** **(I recommend reading this):** I'm going to MAKE THIS CLEAR. Just like I mention on my bio page about every other fanfiction I done: I DON'T OWN THE PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIAN SERIES OR IT'S CHARACTERS as the rights goes to Rick Rioran. Also I suggest you guys start paying attention to the Author notes and my warnings that I left on EVERY chapter of EVERY story.

Keep in mind it would be hard to be original with Hazel's and Frank's Flashbacks in this story. Sorry if this chapter is too much like the book.

 **Warning:** Certain ancient Greeknames matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades**', ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Last Olympian**' ' **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Staff of Hermes**' ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Lost Hero** ' and ' **The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Quest for Buford** ' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed _as long as_ you inform me about it.

* * *

 **Percy's POV Part XX**

The next morning, Hazel, Frank and I ate breakfast early, then headed into the city before the senate was due to convene. As praetor, I could go pretty much whenever I wanted, whenever I wanted.

Tyson was supposed to come too as ambassador, but he was still passed out in the stables with Blackjack and Mrs. O'Leary. When I saw him, he was still wearing his new ambassador clothes, which was now covered in peanut butter from last night and hay. Terminus wasn't going to be happy about that. Last night I made sure Tyson know that weapons were not allowed in the city limits and to leave his club behind.

Ella roosted in a pile of old Roman scrolls with her head tucked under her wings.

When we got to the forum, we sat by the fountains and watched the sun come up. The citizens were already busy sweeping up cupcake simulations, confetti, and party hats from last night's celebration. The engineer corps were working on a new arch that would commemorate the victory over Polybotes.

Hazel said she'd even heard talk of a formal _triumph_ for the three of us—a parade around the city followed by a week of games and celebrations—but I knew we'd never get the chance. We didn't have time.

I told them about my dream of Juno.

Hazel frowned. "The gods were busy last night. Show him, Frank."

Frank reached into his coat pocket. I thought he might bring out his piece of firewood, but instead he produced a thin paper book and a note on red stationery.

"These were on my pillow this morning," He passed them to me. "Like the Tooth Fairy visited."

The book was _The Art of War_ by Sun Tzu. I had never heard of it, but I could guess who sent it. The letter read: _Good job, kid. A real man's best weapon is his mind. This was your mom's favorite book. Give it a read._

"Wow." I handed the book back, "I guess Mars really is different from Ares."

Frank flipped through the pages. "There's a lot in here about sacrifice, knowing the cost of war. Back in Vancouver, Mars told me I'd have to put my duty ahead of my life or the entire war would go sideways. I thought he meant by risking it all by freeing freeing Thantos, but now… I don't know. I can't shake this feeling the worse is yet to come."

He glanced at me nervously, and I got the feeling Frank wasn't telling me everything. I wondered if Mars knew about my fatal flaw and warned Frank about it.

Besides, Frank had already given enough. He now lost his mother and grandmother.

"You risked your life," I said. "You were willing to burn up to save the quest. Mars can't expect more than that."

"Maybe," Frank said doubtfully.

Hazel squeezed Frank's hand.

They seemed more comfortable around each other this morning, not quite nervous and awkward. I wondered if they'd started dating. I hope so, but I decided it was better not to ask.

"Hazel, how about you?" I asked. "Any word from Pluto?"

She looked down. Several diamond popped out of the ground at her feet. "No," she admitted. "In a way, I think he sent a message through Thantos—that the prophecy of seven is what he was talking about years ago. Most importantly I think he wants me to find Nico."

I glanced at the sunrise, hoping to see a warship descending form the sky. So far, nothing.

"We'll find your brother," I promised. "As soon as the ship gets here, we'll sail for Rome."

Hazel and Frank exchange uneasy looks, like they'd already talked about this.

"Percy…" Frank said. "If you want us to come along, we're in. But are you sure? I mean… we know you've got tons of friends at the other camp. And you could pick anyone at Camp Jupiter now. If we're not part of the seven, we'd understand—"

"Are you kidding?" I asked. "You think I'd leave my team behind. As much as I hate admitting it, Juno is right. The three of us proven ourselves in the quest to free Thantos as three of the Prophecy of Seven, and I'm not going to change it."

That seemed to relieved some of the tensions.

Hazel took a deep breath. "The prophecy Ella gave us—about the child of wisdom, and the mark of Athena burning through Rome… do you know what that's about?"

I shrugged. "Juno says it's a test on Annabeth to prove herself as part of the Prophecy of Seven, but other than that, I'm not sure. I do know that Annabeth will pass it without burning Rome, but it wouldn't hurt to hear the rest of the prophecy."

Frank slipped his book into his pocket. "We need to take her with us—I mean, for her own safety. If Octavian finds out Ella has the Sibylline Books memorized.

I shuddered. Octavian used the prophecies to keep his power at camp. Now that I had taken away his chance at praetor, Octavian would be looking for other ways to exert influence. If he got hold of Ella…

"You're right," I said. "We've got to protect her—maybe find a way to get her to Camp Half-Blood."

"Camp Half-Blood?" Hazel and Frank asked.

I nodded. "The children of Apollo there are nothing like Octavian, and I have a friend there who probably can help piece together some of the prophecies she read that burned without harming a feather on Ella."

Of course I was talking about Rachel Dare. I didn't want to bring up about her being the Oracle, not yet at least with possible eavesdroppers. The good thing was that Frank and Hazel agreed with the idea as it meant Ella would be safe.

"Percy!" Tyson came running across the forum, Ella fluttered behind him with a scroll in her talons. When they reached the fountain, Ella dropped the scroll in my lap.

"Special delivery," she said. "From an Aura. A wind spirit. Yes, Ella got a special delivery."

"Good morning, brothers!" Tyson had hay on his hair and peanut butter in his teeth and robes. "The scroll is from Leo. He is funny and small.

The scroll looked unremarkable, but when I spread it across my lap, a video recording flickered on the parchment. A kid in Greek armor grinned up at us. He had an impish face, curly black hair, and wild eyes, like he just had several cups of coffee. He was sitting in a dark room with timber walls like a ship's cabin. Oil lamps swung back and forth on the ceiling.

Hazel stifled a scream.

"What?" Frank asked. "What's wrong?"

Slowly I realized the curly-haired kid looked like Hazel's late boyfriend from over seventy years ago.

"Hey!" said the guy in the video. "Greeting from your friends at Camp Half-Blood, et cetera. This is Leo. I'm the…" He looked off screen and yelled: "What's my title? Am I like admiral, or captain, or—"

A girl's voice yelled back, "Repair boy."

"Very funny, Piper," Leo grumbled. He turned back to the parchment screen. "So yeah, I'm… ah… supreme commander of the _Argo II_. Yeah, I like that! Anyway, we're gonna be sailing toward you in about I dunno, an hour in this big mother warship. We'd appreciate it if you'd not, like, blow us out of the sky or anything. So, okay! If you could tell the Romans that. See you soon. Your demigodishness, and all that. Peace out."

The parchment turned blank. Hazel looked like she seen a ghost.

"It's not Sammy," I told her.

"How can you be sure?" Hazel asked.

"He said his name is Leo, plus to come from camp would mean he would have to be a demigod," I explained. "Was Sammy a demigod?"

"No—at least, I don't think so," Hazel said.

"Then it can't be Sammy," I responded.

That didn't sound reassuring but Hazel nodded.

At that moment, horns blew in the distance. The senators came marching into the forum with Reyna at the lead.

"It's meeting time," I said. "Come on. We've got to warn them about the warship."

…

"Why should we trust these Greeks?" Octavian was saying for what seem to be the hundredth time.

He'd been pacing the senate floor for five minutes, going on and on, trying to counter what I had told them about Juno's plan and the Prophecy of Seven.

The senate shifted restlessly, but most of them were too afraid to interrupt Octavian while he was on a roll. Meanwhile the sun climbed in the sky, shining through the broken senate roof and giving Octavian a natural spotlight.

Really Apollo? I get this guy is your descendant, but can't you stay neutral since he's arguing against saving you from destruction.

The Senate House was packed. Queen Hylla, Frank, Hazel sat in the front row with the senators. Tyson sat up front as well, in the very same seat Nico sat during my first Senate meeting actually. Veterans and ghost filled the back rows. Even Ella was allowed to sit back.

Reyna and I occupied matching praetors' chairs on the dais, which reminded me of the time I sat on my dad's throne—except the part where I started thinking of how my dad shouldn't listen to anyone else.

"The camp is safe," Octavian continued. "I'll be the first to congratulate our heroes for bringing back the legion's eagle and so much Imperial gold!"

"Some of which Frank donated from his family's own stock," Hazel stated.

"Which just shows how truly we've been blessed with good fortune. But why do more? Why tempt Fate?"

"Because the Fates already called for it," I said. "Juno and Mars confirmed it themselves that the Prophecy of Seven is coming true. Gaea is waking and there's no telling who else of her giant children was revived while Thantos was captured—or when the Doors of Death were opened. The real war will take place, and when it does, the Giants plan to destroy the gods from their roots in the old land. First we need to go to Rome to find the Demigod who will help us find the Doors of Death and close it, then to Greece to stop the giants once and for all."

An uneasy ripple spread through the senate.

"I know, I know," I said. "You've always thought of the Greeks as your enemies and every time we meet we fight which is why the gods kept our two camps apart. But that can change. It _has_ to change if we're to defeat Gaea. That's what the Prophecy of Seven means. Seven demigods, Greek and Romans, bare arms and close the Doors of Death together."

"I agree with Percy," Gwen said from the second row. "I, for one, trust Percy's word. Greek or not, he restored honor of the legion and the Fifth Cohort that Michael Varus lost. You saw him on the battlefield last night. Would anyone here say he is not a true hero of Rome?"

Nobody argued. A few nodded in agreement.

Reyna stood. I watched her anxiously. Her opinion could change everything—for better or worse.

"You claim this is a combine quest," she said. "You claim Juno intends for us to work with this—this other group, Camp Half-Blood. Yet the Greeks have been our enemies for eons. They are known for their deceptions."

"Maybe so, I speak from experience when I say enemies have become friends before," I said. "Over ten years ago, no one would of thought that a child of Neptune and Jupiter or Poseidon and Zeus could get along, and yet I grew a bond with a daughter of Zeus to call her my sister just as I have with you and Hylla. A week ago, Romans and Amazons had little connection, and yet we fought side-by-side against the Giant Army."

Queen Hylla laughed. "He's got a point."

"The Demigods of Camp Half-Blood have _already_ been working with Camp Jupiter without either side knowing it," I said. "During the Titan war Last summer, while you were attacking Mount Othrys, we were defending Olympus in Manhattan. I fought Hyperion and Kronos myself."

Reyna backed up, almost tripping over her toga. "You… _what?"_

"I know it's hard to believe," I said, "But I think I earned your trust. I'm on your side. Hazel and Frank—Mars confirmed it himself that they have a roll in this quest. The other four are on their way from Camp Half-Blood right now. One of them is Jason Grace, your old praetor."

"Oh, come on!" Octavian shouted. "He's making things up, now."

Reyna frowned. "It is a lot to believe. Jason is coming back with a bunch of Greek demigods? You say they're going to appear in the sky in a heavily armed warship, but we shouldn't worry."

"I'm saying we should let them land and hear them out. Jason will backup everything I'm telling you."

Right as I said that a messenger rushed into the Senate House, gasping as if he'd run all the way from camp. "Praetors! I'm sorry to interrupt, but our scouts report—"

"Ship!" Tyson said happily, pointing at the hole in the ceiling. "Yay!"

Sure enough, a Greek warship appeared out of the clouds, about a half a mile away, descending toward the Senate House. As it got closer, I could see bronze shields glinting along the sides, billowing sails, and the familiar metal dragon shaped figure head. On the tallest mast, a big white flag of truce snapped in the wind.

The _Argo II_. It was the most incredible ship I'd ever seen.

"Praetors!" the messenger cried. "What are your orders?"

Octavian shot to his feet but I yelled. "Enough! Look that's the white flag of truce. That means they come in peace."

"In peace? This is a trick, a deception!" Octavian yelled.

"No it's not!" I yelled.

Everyone turned toward Reyna.

She studied the approaching warship. Her expression hardened. If she vetoed my orders… well, I didn't know what would happen.

"Hold your fire!" Reyna said. "But have the legion stand ready. Percy Jackson is your duly chosen praetor. We will trust his word unless we are given clear reason not to. Senators, let us adjourned to the forum and meet our… new friends."

The senators stampeded out of the auditorium—whether from excitement or panic. I wasn't sure. Tyson ran after them, yelling, "Yay! Yay!" with Ella fluttering around his head.

Octavian gave me a disgusted look, then threw down his teddy bear and followed the crowd.

Reyna stood at my shoulder.

"I support you, Percy," she said. "I trust your judgment. But for all our sakes, I hope we can keep the peace between our campers and your Greek friends."

"We will," I said. "The fact that they befriended Jason should be proof enough."

She glanced at the warship. Her expression turned a little wistful. "I hope you're right, especially about Jason being with them. I've missed him."

She marched outside, leaving me alone with Hazel and Frank.

"They're coming down right in the forum," Frank said nervously. "Terminus is going to have a heart attack."

"Are you sure about this, Percy?" Hazel asked. "Things could still go wrong."

"I'm sure," I said with a smile. I knew the stakes were high. I knew this day could go horribly wrong. But I also knew that Annabeth was on that ship. If things went _right_ , this would be the best day of my life.

I threw one arm around Hazel and one arm around Frank.

Come on," I said. "Let me introduce you to my _Greek_ family."

* * *

 **A/N:** That's the end of this story. Thank you to all of you out of the 6,528 readers who kept reading the story. And now for the Summary of the next story.

 _The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus: The Mark of Athena_

 **Summary:** The Seven chosen demigods have come together to head to save Olympus. Too bad Gaea had allies that manipulated Leo into starting another war between Roman and Greek Demigods, and the only thing that can end the war is hidden in Rome that only Annabeth can find, while the rest must fight the twin banes of Dionysus to save Nico in order to find the Doors of Death and close it.


End file.
